Rescue
by HR always live on
Summary: Ruth has been missing for three years after Cotterdam. Harry receives a message from her, and starts to hunt her down. When he finds her, he finds someone very different to the person who left London. What have the last three years meant for her? Chapter 19 posted.
1. Chapter 1

**Another multi chapter fic, which has been hanging around in my mind for a while. I'm using Iran for this story, but changing some details about the country, to make the story work in later chapters.**

**Set post Cotterdam, some time in S8, but without Adam's death. Enjoy.**

* * *

Harry had been on the London streets for just under an hour. He knew he was being paranoid, but he couldn't risk it were he being followed. This was too important. He stopped at doghouse five, waiting for Adam to arrive. He shouldn't be too long, and Harry hoped he was being careful. Of course he would be. Adam had been doing this too long to be reckless.

It was past midnight and it was just below freezing. Harry shivered, feeling the chill, and briefly wished he was back home in bed. But he couldn't be, because this was important, and he knew it. He pressed a gloved hand to his jacket pocket, making sure it was still there. He heard Adam's footsteps a good thirty seconds before he saw his friends shadow.

"So what was so important we had to meet away from the grid in the middle of the night?"

Harry smiled at Adam, relieved he was here. "You weren't followed?"

"Harry," Adam chastised quietly.

"Sorry. This is important. And unofficial."

"What is it?"

"I can't read Arabic," he said. "I need you to read this for me." He took the postcard out of his pocket with a torch, as it was totally pitch black.

"There are dozens of translators in house, why me?" Adam said as he took it. "And why so late?"

"I trust you. As you'll find out when you read it. I have a… vague idea of what it must say."

Adam read it and sighed, suddenly understanding why Harry wanted this far away from the grid. "It's from Ruth."

"How do you know that?" Harry asked urgently.

"I've seen her write Arabic often enough on the grid," he said. "I know her handwriting. Even if I hadn't read what it says."

"Adam, tell me," Harry said. "It's driving me mad that I can't read it."

"She says: _Harry. Well, it's been a long time since I wrote that. I know it is an awful lot to ask, but I'm in trouble and I need help. I wouldn't be writing to you if I had anyone else to turn to. If you can, come to Tehran. I'll understand if you can't. Ruth_."

Adam handed the card back to Harry, who pocketed it carefully. "You're not seriously thinking of going to Tehran, are you?"

"Yes," Harry said shortly. Of course he was going to Tehran. Ruth needed him.

"Oh come on, it's a massive city and you've no idea where she is or what kind of trouble she might be in. You'd have to go alone, without any kind of back up Harry."

"I have to go," he said. "And you know it."

"Harry, what will you do when you get there?" Adam said. "You've no idea where she is."

"I have an idea," he said darkly. "I received a postcard with an address in Tehran a few weeks ago. It just had the address on it, nothing more. I didn't know what it meant at the time. Now I do."

"Harry, you can't just leave…" Adam said.

"What if it was you?" Harry asked. "What if it was Fiona asking for your help? Would you just sit here in London?"

"You know I wouldn't Harry," he said. "I'd be on the first flight out there." He sighed heavily, thinking about his next words. "Just… don't do anything stupid."

"I won't," he said. "I need to come into the grid tomorrow anyway."

"Why?"

"To pick up her British passport." Ruth's name had been cleared about a year ago, but Harry had no idea where she was to get in contact with her. Malcolm had looked into it, but had had no joy in locating her, and Harry had guessed she was still in hiding. There had been little he could do, but now…

Adam sighed, but knew there was no talking him out of it. "I'll keep things ticking over in London. Just don't be too long."

"I won't," he said. "Thanks Adam." The younger spook walked off, leaving Harry alone. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that he had to go to Iran, but it did need some planning. And he wondered what trouble she could be in that was delayed enough for her to rely on postcards to let him know she needed help. He sighed, feeling so confused, but he knew he'd go to her. He couldn't not.

* * *

Harry had been in Tehran for three days and he'd been watching the address Ruth had sent him for about two of those three days. So far, no sign of Ruth. He wondered if that was good or bad, and he was on the verge of leaving the address she'd given him to look somewhere else. Maybe employ the grids resources into looking for her. As much as he hated to admit it, maybe Adam had a point. Maybe he should have stayed in London and actually formulated a plan before jumping on a plane.

He sat in the car and sighed. He needed some food, and had the key in the ignition to leave when there was a sharp knock on the window. He jerked in shock and looked out of the glass. **_Ruth_**. She looked frightened and she wore a hijab, but it was most definitely Ruth. She hurried around to the passenger side. "Just drive," she breathed heavily as she sat down.

"Where?" Harry said, a little bewildered and more than a little speechless at her sudden appearance.

"Anywhere but here," she said, eyes wide. He recognised the look of pure fear on her beautiful face, so he did exactly what she asked, and he put his foot down.

* * *

**More soon. I'd love to know what you think. Thanks for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for the enthusiasm for chapter one. I hope this doesn't disappoint.**

* * *

He stopped the car on the outskirts of the city, making sure that they were in a relatively abandoned place, and then he turned to Ruth. Neither of them had spoken, and they'd spent nearly an hour in the car together. Now he looked at her critically. She was pale and looked much older than three years away from home accounted for. Thinner too he thought, though he couldn't see much of her. She looked at him, her blue eyes open and honest, and attempted to smile. It was a very weak effort.

"Why am I here, Ruth?" he asked quietly.

"Thank you," she said. "For coming all the way over here, you didn't have to do that. I know you didn't have to."

"You asked me to come," he said softly. He smiled at her, he couldn't help it. After three years it was so good to see her. The reality of having her here with him after so long felt like a jolt of adrenaline, as if he'd been sleepwalking through the last few years. He looked at her closer, and he saw a bruise on her cheek. Yellowed and fading, but it was there. He didn't comment on it. "What's going on?" he asked quietly.

"You look good Harry," she said. "I wondered sometimes if I'd ever see you again. I wanted to, but I did wonder."

He smiled. "Talk to me. I didn't come all this way for small talk, did I?"

She swallowed, looking at her hands before speaking. "I need to come back to Britain," she said. "I need to come home." Harry said nothing, waiting for more of an explanation. "If I don't leave Iran soon, I'm never going to be able to."

"Why?" She looked at him sharply, with those penetrating blue eyes

"Because my husband's hitting me," she said. He hid his shock quite well, his gaze going to the ring on her finger automatically. Sure enough it was there, and he'd failed to notice that "And he's getting more violent as the days go by. I think he's going to kill me if I stay here long enough."

"You're married?"

"I was frightened," she said, apology in her eyes. "And marriage seemed like my best option at the time. I don't… care for him."

Harry sighed heavily, not understanding. "Why don't you start at the beginning."

She smiled at him. "Yes, that might be best. How are you?"

"Fine," he said shortly. That wasn't what he meant by starting at the beginning. "I don't think how I am is the issue right now." She nodded and then fell apart, her face crumpling.

"Oh God, Harry," she said in a sob. She leaned across the car to him. After a moment he wrapped his arms around her, soothing her. It felt so good to be held by him that for a moment her worries faded away. He ran a hand across her back and then she pulled away from him, her lips twitching. "There's a café around the corner," she said. "Down the street. Shall we talk about it there?"

"Yes," Harry agreed. He thought that was a very good idea indeed.

* * *

They were sat in a fairly busy café, loud enough to cover their conversation, had someone come in understanding English. "I got involved in a bit of stealing," she said. "I was desperate. It was wrong, I know that, but I needed money for food. I had enough money to keep a roof over my head, but no more. I needed to eat."

"Okay," he said quietly, watching her intently. "What then?"

"I did it strategically," she said. "But I got caught," she said simply. "I was about to be arrested, and I wanted to avoid that. A woman with no nationality she can claim in an Iranian prison? No. It frightened me. Terrified me." She swallowed and wrapped her hands around her mug of coffee, warming her fingers.

Harry knew she wanted to tell him, and he was finding it very hard not to press her. After three years, hearing the soft tone of her voice was almost hypnotic, in spite of the content of what she was telling him. "What happened next?"

"I'd known Ahmed for a couple of months, and I knew he worked for the police force. I didn't realise how high up or how influential. He said that if I married him, my case file would disappear, and I'd be looked after. I'd never need to worry about the police again." She smiled to herself. "I didn't like him. I wasn't attracted to him, I mean. But after eighteen months on the run, the prospect of being safe and looked after was a very attractive one. I wouldn't go hungry, I wouldn't have to worry about money. Well, it didn't take me long to agree. It was a good option at the time, Harry."

"I can see that," he said slowly. He wanted to take her hand across the table to comfort her, but was very aware that they were in a Muslim country, and that she was a married woman. He didn't know who was watching, or whether she'd welcome his attention in the first place. "Did you convert?" he asked, nodding at her hijab.

"No," she said, smiling. "I felt uncomfortable going outside with my head uncovered. Because women don't do that here. If I wore one, I blended into the crowd. It's easier. After all, wasn't blending in what I was supposed to be doing after all?"

He nodded in understanding. "So… he's been violent towards you?" Harry kept a tight rein on his anger, knowing it wouldn't help her, but the fury was bubbling red hot under the surface.

"Yes," she said. "It's not been bad. Mostly, anyway."

"Don't do that," Harry said. "Don't repackage it until it's acceptable. Don't lie to me."

"Okay," she said. "Yes, he's been violent. I'm only one step up from being his property after all. It… I didn't realise I was swapping one prison for another when I married him."

"How long have you been married to him?" Harry asked.

"About a year and a half."

"Then… what made you write to me?" he asked. "What tipped the scales?"

"It got worse," she said quietly. "He got worse when I was foolish." She looked at him for a moment, biting her lip as if debating what to tell him. She sighed heavily, and then admitted it. "A couple of months ago, I told him I was pregnant." The shock on Harry's face was absolute. "He went crazy, and I've never been in so much pain. I was meant to be his beautiful western wife. I wasn't supposed to get pregnant. It didn't follow his plan."

"The baby…?" he asked quietly.

"Oh, no," she said, shaking her head. "With the beating I took, I miscarried." The way she spoke, so casually and matter of fact terrified him. She wiped the tears from her eyes briefly. She didn't want to be crying, not now. "That was when I knew I needed your help. I can't escape this life. Not on my own. I was in hospital, recovering and that's when I wrote to you. I hate to be all damsel in distress, but I do need your help to get home. To London."

"I'm so sorry, Ruth," he said. "This is all my fault."

She frowned at him, not expecting that. "Why?"

"I should never have let you be found guilty when you weren't. I shouldn't have let you take the fall for me. To protect my career. God, it's all so pointless."

"It's done," she said. "Regret isn't going to change it." He sighed, feeling so ineffectual. "I need to get out Harry," she said. "Can you help me?"

"Of course I can," he said. "Your name's been cleared for a year. I've got your British passport with me." He looked around and put his hand to his pocket.

"No, not yet," she said as he moved to get it. "I have to go back. I… can't leave until I'm really gone." For the first time, she looked completely terrified. "He'll come after me. I can't not go back."

"I can have flights arranged for tomorrow afternoon," he said briefly. "For both of us to go back to London."

"Could you?" she asked, eyes wide with hope and fear.

"Yes," he said. It wouldn't be difficult, and it sounded as if she really wanted to come home. "Can you get to the airport?"

"Not safely," she said. "I can't trust anyone. Only you." He smiled at her briefly.

"I can pick you up tomorrow, where I met you today. Take you straight to the airport."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Ahmed knows someone's watching him and it's making him nervous. I… don't like it when he gets anxious." Harry caught her meaning and swallowed uncomfortably.

"Where then?"

She gave him an address, which he committed to memory. "Ten a.m.? He'll be at work, and I should be able to get away."

"Okay," he said. "I'll be there, I promise." He drummed his fingers against the top of the table. He didn't feel comfortable letting her out of his sight. As if she could read his mind, she smiled.

"I'll be fine, Harry."

He looked at her sadly, and spoke with a low soft tone that she'd imagined so many times.

"If you really believed you'd be fine, you wouldn't have written to me in the first place."

"No," she said, looking down at the table. "I guess I wouldn't have. I… I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry," he said. "Do you need a lift back?"

"Yes," she said. "Please."

"Okay, lets go."

* * *

**I hope the explanation isn't too harrowing! Let me know what you think, thanks for reading.**


	3. Chapter 3

**For those of you wondering, I do have a reason that Ruth went to Iran, it just hasn't come up naturally in the story yet. Thank you so much for the encouragement. Enjoy.**

* * *

He parked a street or two away from her house and the silence in the car was deafening. "Are you going to be okay tonight?" he asked.

"Of course." She wasn't all that convincing.

"I really don't like the idea of leaving you here overnight," he said.

"You don't have any authority to take me away," she said. "Not in Iran. You've got the same status as any other British tourist or businessman here. You can't just rant and rave to get your way over here. It won't work."

He smiled at that, remembering some of the louder occasions on the grid. "You remember me shouting across Thames House?"

"Vividly and fondly," she said, smiling. "I loved your shouting matches with Juliet in particular." Harry smiled at her. "Always entertaining." The smile faded when she remembered her current situation. "I'll be fine," she said.

"Call me at any time of day or night if you need me," he said. "I'll give you my number."

"Don't write it down," she said. "I'll memorise it." After he was sure she had the number firmly in her mind, silence spread out again.

"I should go."

"I'm worried about you," he said, eyes almost boring into her.

"Harry, I'll see you tomorrow." She got out of the car and walked off. Within a few moments she was around the corner and out of sight. He sighed heavily, before punching the dashboard, trying to vent some of his anger. It didn't really work. _Oh Ruth_. He felt so sad for her, for what she'd been through, combined with a healthy level of fear, leaving her alone with her husband for the next few hours. Her Iranian husband. God, that created an entirely new set of problems. He touched the pocket and felt her passport that was safely there. Good. He needed to organise some flights, so he drove off, leaving her alone. He just needed to get them both out of the country. He could deal with everything else later.

* * *

That night Ruth couldn't sleep. Every time Ahmed shifted in his sleep, she worried. That he'd wake up, that he'd realise she hadn't been in her place during the day. That he knew she'd met Harry that afternoon. He couldn't know, the part of the city they'd been in wasn't one she usually frequented. No one would recognise her, and if they had and told her husband, he wouldn't have just slept on it.

Carefully she turned over, trying to get more comfortable. It didn't work, because every time she closed her eyes to attempt to get some sleep, her mind saw Harry. He looked exactly the same as he had three years ago. Even better as her memories of the exact shape of his face had been fading, no matter how much she tried to hold onto him. But when he was in front of her, it was as if nothing had happened. No time had passed at all. Ahmed grunted in his sleep, and she felt her heart lurch with fear. It took a long time for her to settle down

Tomorrow. She just had to hold on until tomorrow.

* * *

Harry wanted to get hold of Ruth, to find out if she was okay. If she was still coming. But he had no way to get hold of her. After forcing down some breakfast and waiting until rush hour had mostly passed, he drove to the address she'd given him, waiting.  
Ruth appeared after ten minutes, but it felt like much longer. She rushed into the car, throwing a bag onto the back seat. "Drive," she said quickly.

He was about to, when he saw her face. There was a cut through her eyebrow, which had been bleeding recently. It wasn't particularly bad, but he felt fury rolling through him at the thought of more injuries that she could be hiding. She saw him looking at her face and shrugged. "Harry, just drive," she said. "Please."

"Are you okay?"

"Harry…"

"Right," he said, heading towards the airport. He tried not to think about anything else but his driving. He wasn't entirely successful.

* * *

He parked the car, and the silence was deafening. They had time before their flight back to Heathrow and he wanted to talk to her.

"How long have we got before he realises you're not at home?" Harry asked.

"Unless something changes, five o'clock this afternoon," Ruth said. "He rarely leaves work during the day."

"Rarely means he does sometimes," Harry said.

"It's market day," she replied softly. "I'll be out "shopping" until we take off."

"Okay," he said. He gave her her passport and she gripped it tightly, knuckles going white.

"Is this real?" she asked quietly. "Am I really going home?"

He let his lips tilt up in a smile. "Yes. It's real. Let's go and get checked in."

"The car?"

"It's a rental," he said. "It won't matter once we're gone." She nodded but said nothing and got out of the car.

* * *

Ruth was very twitchy. They'd gone past security and were waiting for the boarding call to their flight. So far everything had gone smoothly, much more so than they could have hoped. There was no reason for her to be anxious, but she was.

"Calm down," Harry said quietly. "It's okay. You're okay."

"I'll feel better once we're in the air," she said. "Then it really will be real."

"It's okay," he said, gripping her hand. "Nothings going to happen to you. Not now. I'm getting you back to London, one way or another." She smiled tightly at him, not really believing it, but squeezed his hand gratefully nonetheless. They stayed holding hands until they boarded the flight. When they were seated, Ruth was incredibly tense, and nothing he said made any difference at all. In the end, he gave up, and closed his eyes until they were airborne, only seven hours away from London.

"I'm sorry," she said, turning to look at him. "I don't mean to be…"

"It's fine," he said. "Just don't worry. It went… "

"We're in the air now," she said, smiling a tired smile at him. "There's no going back now."

"Ruth, if I'd have known what you were going through… I wouldn't have just left you to rot. I'd have come for you."

"I know," she said. "It's good to have it confirmed though." She looked around the plane for a few moments and then started to unpin her hijab. He watched intently as she did it. "I want to feel like me again," she said in explanation. "I don't want to hide." She sighed and pulled it off, hoping she wasn't being glared at from anyone else on the plane.

"You let your hair grow," he said quietly.

"Yes," she said. "More a lack of energy to do anything about it rather than anything else." She brushed her fingers through her hair self consciously, then moved it off of her face. Her eyes were drawn to her wedding ring and she looked at it for a moment, then tugged it off, not wanting to wear it.

"It's not going to be that easy to permanently rid yourself of him," Harry said lowly.

"I know," she said. She put her wedding ring in her bag, and then turned to Harry again. "He's going to come after me. He's not the type of man to just let me go because I wanted to leave. He will come for me."

"I know." He put an arm around her shoulders before stopping to think about it. "You'll be all right though. I'll make sure of it." Personally, he was looking forward to a "conversation" with this Ahmed. Harry knew who'd be the one ending up in hospital then. Ruth turned towards him, resting her head against his shoulder and he smiled. It felt wonderful to comfort her like this.

"Try and get some sleep," he whispered. She drifted off amazingly quickly, so quickly he knew she couldn't have slept well the night before. Hardly surprising though, was it?

* * *

**More soon! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A bit of explanation here. Hope it's plausible.**

* * *

Harry winced as his back gave a painful twinge. Ruth had fallen asleep, leaning against him and he'd been reluctant to move her. Which meant he'd been in increasing discomfort for a few hours now. But the novelty of having Ruth sleeping against him was too sweet to willingly give up.

Suddenly she shifted, waking up and moving off of him. Her eyes were wide with alarm and she started stammering before she'd properly woken up. "I… I didn't mean to… I… fall asleep like that. On you. You must be so uncomfortable. I'm so sorry."

"Ruth, slow down," he said. "You don't need to be afraid of me. I'm not going to hurt you." She breathed heavily for several moments, then nodded as the reality of her situation hit her.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I just woke up and…" She shook her head to clear her mind.

"Do you feel any better?"

"Not really," she said. "Thanks. For being my pillow."

"Any time," he said sincerely. She smiled and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Look, I have to ask," he said. "Why? Why did you go to Iran in the first place? It just seems… such a strange choice of yours."

"Well, I didn't plan it," she said. "It will seem stupid, with what happened afterwards."

"Just tell me," he said softly.

"I was working my way south through Europe. I stayed less than a week in most places, and I used buses and trains to travel. Even with Malcolms false passport I had, I didn't feel safe or brave enough to risk air travel. Zaf had given me as much money as he could get, and it could last about a year, if I was careful. Very, very careful." She sighed heavily, pausing a moment to get her thoughts into some kind of order. "Anyway, I made it to Athens and I was thinking about maybe going to Istanbul. It was a place I'd always wanted to see, and when would I get a better opportunity?" She smiled to herself. "Then I bought a newspaper which changed things."

"And?" he prompted when she came to a stop. Ruth bit her lip, then got her carryon bag. She unzipped the inner pocket and took out several newspaper clippings, handling them carefully. She went through them until she found the one she wanted and gave it to him. The entire article was in Greek, which he couldn't read and he looked at her for an explanation.

"The photograph," she said. "In the background." She pointed to it, and then he saw it. The photo showed someone in a suit leaving an important building somewhere in Tehran. In the background was a group of business people on the street, oblivious to the journalists. And in the middle of them was Zaf.

"You can't know that's him," Harry said. "Not from that picture."

"No," she agreed. "So I bought every newspaper I could find, trying to find more information about the agreement. It was the first step in a political alliance and trade agreement between Greece and Iran. It never came to anything in the long run, probably because they were reporting on it too soon, but I've never been more grateful." She handed him the other clippings. Each paper had used it's own photographer, and there were enough slightly different angles to be convinced that it was Zaf.

"I looked into it," she said. "The building was a corporate giant, and I knew it would be a good placement for an MI5 or 6 agent who wanted to go undercover for a while. Zaf had worked for six, before he came to section D. So I knew he was there. I didn't know how long he'd stay, or how long I had to get in contact with him. Even if I could get in touch with him in the first place."

"So you went to Tehran?"

"I thought about it," she said. "I knew it was dangerous, and I shouldn't try to get into contact with him. But… I was so lonely. It felt as if my life in London had been a dream. As if I'd spent my entire life on the run. I longed to hear from home, to talk to someone who knew me. Who knew what I'd given up. And I had nowhere else to be anyway. So yes, I made a decision to go and see him. I never intended on staying."

"Did you ever see him?" Harry asked.

"Yes, I did," she said. "He wasn't that hard to find. I knew where he worked, roughly, and that he wouldn't be using his real name. Once I got there, I went to the building and just… waited outside. It didn't take long."

"Did you… speak to him?" Harry asked both urgent to know and worried about what she'd tell him.

"Yes," Ruth said. "I hadn't gone all that way to just look at him. We arranged it so that if anyone was watching him, it would just look like a one night stand. I know it was breaking all kinds of protocols, and security for both of us, but I had to see him. He stayed over my flat one night. Well, flat is generous. A rented filthy room is more appropriate."

"I'm glad you saw him," Harry said sincerely. "What did he tell you?"

"That he was happy." Ruth smiled. "He didn't tell me anything sensitive. Any information I shouldn't know, I mean. He did tell me that you were still alive, for which I was very grateful." He smiled at that.

"What else?" he said, very curious.

"He told me that Malcolm was still trying to prove that I was innocent. It was so good to speak to him. Harry, I have a lot of regrets. Especially over the last few years, but meeting up with Zaf one last time isn't one of them." She smiled, sadly this time. "He's dead isn't he?"

"Yes," Harry said. "How did you know?"

"He promised me that he'd find a way for us to get in contact again. That he'd tell you I was alive and well. He was going to let me know when he'd told you. I stayed in Iran, in the hopes that he'd get in touch with me again. He promised he would, so I didn't dare leave. It would be willingly cutting myself off from my last tie to home, I couldn't lose hope. And then my money ran out, and I had no choice but to stay put. I felt like… he must be dead. I never saw him again. I wondered… if it had anything to do with the train that blew up in Tehran? It only happened a few days after I met him."

"Not directly," Harry said, knowing they were on slightly dangerous ground here.

"Go on," she said. "How did he die?"

"You don't want to know," he said shortly.

"I do," she said, her voice soft but firm. "Tell me."

Harry knew he couldn't lie to her, or deny her the truth, so he was honest. "He was captured and sold on. A group wanted to get information from spies, sell it, then when they were done with the spy, they'd sell him on to the next round of torturers. It… was awful," Harry said, looking down at his hands. "And I tried to get him back, but I couldn't do it." He sighed heavily. "I felt like it was my fault. I just… I know how it feels. To be… far away from home, being tortured and feeling like you've been completely forgotten. I let him down."

"I don't know enough to say either way," she said. "But I'm not going to lie to you or placate you with empty words. All I will say is you have impossible decisions to make every day. That's your job. And you're so good at it because you're an honourable man." He looked at her, his eyes gazing into her blue ones. Oddly, her words were reassuring. She couldn't pass judgement on Zaf's death. It was too long ago and she didn't know enough about the circumstances, or what had been on the line at the time. But the faith she had in him anyway made him feel warm inside. Zaf's death was nearly two years ago now, and while he still felt guilty, it didn't help anyone were he to wallow and drown in it. Decisions had been made, rightly or wrongly, but it was far too late.

Ruth frowned as they both felt the aircraft dip slightly. They were coming in to London now, maybe twenty minutes away from landing. She'd gone very pale, and closed her eyes. "Are you all right?"

"I don't like landing," she said. "It makes my head swim. I'll be fine as soon as the plane touches down." He said nothing, but held her hand tightly. She squeezed his palm in reassurance and thanks.

* * *

From memory, Zaf was undercover in Tehran at the beginning of series 6, so I hope this makes sense! Massive thank you to the reviews so far, they really encourage me to write quicker!


	5. Chapter 5

Harry had a car waiting for them once they'd left the airport. Ruth was looking around slowly with wide eyes. "I never thought I'd ever get back here," she said. "That I'd ever be home." She sighed heavily. "It's so good to breathe in the London air again. Rain aside."

He smiled at her and got in the car, pleased he had a driver. Airport parking was always a nightmare, and this was one of the times he really valued the perks of his job. "Harry," she said nervously. He turned to her in question. "I don't… I have nowhere to go here. I assume my house was sold and I have no money."

"Don't worry," he said. "I was being presumptuous. I thought you could stay with me. I have a spare room, and I don't like the idea of you being on your own. But if you don't want that, I can arrange a safe house with around the clock surveillance, so if Ahmed does decide to fly here after you, you'll be safe."

"Thank you," she said. "For getting me here. And I'd quite like to stay with you, if that's all right."

"Yes," he said, very pleased. "You're more than welcome." He cleared his throat before saying something else. "I oversaw the sale of your house. I didn't want to, but it would have looked odd had we not sold it. I'll have the money from the sale transferred to you. It'll take a couple of days."

"Thank you," she said again.

"Go away," Harry said to his phone which was ringing. He didn't want to speak to anyone, save Ruth. The grid could live without him for a few more days. When it rang again, he switched it off. If it was urgent, they'd come to his house. They knew he was back in the country after all, as he'd had to call the grid to arrange the last minute flights. They only wanted to talk to him because he was available. MI5 could damn well wait.

* * *

When they arrived at his house and Harry had disabled the alarm, Ruth looked around in silence. She'd very rarely been at Harry's house, and never for any significant length of time. It felt surreal that she was now here, in the middle of London when just yesterday she was trapped. She looked around the kitchen for a moment as Harry put the kettle on out of habit.

"Tea?"

"Tea," she agreed. "Thank you. For everything." He smiled at her, feeling warmth spread throughout him. It was wonderful to have her back in London with him. They were silent as he made the tea and handed it to her. Harry didn't know what to say, and Ruth was trying to wrap her mind around her new change of circumstances. It had all happened so quickly.

"You know what I really want?" she said. Harry waited. "I want a shower, and then I want to sleep. Is that… okay?"

"Of course," he said, smiling. "The spare room's already made up. I'll show you around." She nodded in thanks and he quickly led her upstairs, showing her what would become her bedroom, and the bathroom across the hall.

"I'll be downstairs if you need anything," he said, trying to make her see that he was completely serious.

"Thank you Harry." She took the towel he held and locked herself in the bathroom before allowing herself to think. It was over. Well, not really. She knew she was likely to see Ahmed at least one more time, if not more. But the worst of it was over. She had Harry's protection, and weak though it might make her, it was what she wanted and needed more than anything else.

* * *

That night in bed, Ruth had the luxury to think about all she'd lost. Or more specifically, the baby she'd never grieved for. At the time she'd been too damaged and too frightened to give her child much thought beyond the immediate. She struggled to get through every day, so there wasn't much room in her mind for anything other than fear. But now, she was alone and could think of the baby she'd lost. Or Ahmed had taken from her. A whole new life, her flesh and blood… gone. She felt a sob rising in her throat and she tried to stifle it out of reflex. She didn't want anyone to hear her crying. It took a moment for her to realise that Harry was here with her. Harry, who wasn't like Ahmed in any way. He wouldn't hit her for disturbing his sleep with her tears.

She thought of the girl she'd dreamed she'd been carrying. The baby who might suddenly make her life worth living. She could feel the absent weight of a newborn in her arms and a wave of tears overcame her. She had to cry, she couldn't do anything else. She was supposed to be a mother, that was how it was meant to be. And it had been taken from her. And her child had died from its fathers temper. The bitterness and the unfairness of it all overwhelmed her until she was gasping for breath.

There was a soft knock on the door. "Ruth, are you okay?"

"Don't come in," she breathed, wiping her face. "I just want to be alone."

"Okay," he said, after only the slightest hesitation. "I'm just down the hall if you need anything."

"Thanks," she said, before dissolving into yet another wave of tears. Harry stood outside her bedroom door for another minute, feeling completely helpless. He didn't know what to do, and even if doing nothing was the best thing for her, inaction went against his nature. After a few more seconds, he went back to bed, knowing that he couldn't help her. The last thing he wanted to do was force his presence on her when she didn't want him there. That would only make her feel like she was trapped yet again, the very last thing he wanted.

He slept fitfully and lightly, waking up in between dozing fits. Once she'd stopped crying, he didn't hear a sound from her for the rest of the night.

* * *

Harry went downstairs to find Ruth sipping tea and reading an old newspaper. Her touch on the words was almost reverent, and he wondered how long it had been since she'd been able to do that. Just sit and read an English paper. Probably three years, he answered himself sadly.

"I'm sorry about last night," she said to him. "I didn't mean to… disturb you."

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She bit her lip, hesitating. All Harry wanted to hear was that she was fine, and she knew it. But that wasn't strictly true. "I don't know. But I'm better than I was."

"Good," he said. He didn't know what to say about her crying her heart out the night before, so he said nothing. He made himself some toast, and nodded at her.

"No, thank you," she said to the silent question, sipping her tea. They settled into a comfortable silence as Harry ate his breakfast. Once he'd finished, his mobile rang.

"Answer it," she said. "I know how it is, you can't stay away from the grid forever, and certainly not for me."

"Okay," he said. He felt very reluctant to enter the world of MI5 again, now that he had Ruth safely with him. He checked caller ID and saw it was the Home Secretary, so he really would have to answer it. He walked into the hall before speaking.

"What is it?" he asked heavily.

"What in Gods name do you think you're up to, Harry?!" William Towers shouted at him. The man was clearly in a bad mood. Harry checked his watch and saw that it was only seven thirty. Far too early for Towers to be in his office, so some disaster was likely to have taken place. Not a good start to the day.

"I don't know, what am I supposed to be up to?" Harry asked, not in the mood for cryptic hints.

"I got a call at four in the morning, accusing the British government of abduction."

"Why does that have anything to do with me?" Harry said, tired of political arguments.

"Because the Iranian government is accusing you of abducting Ahmed Javadi's wife and taking her back to London with you. That can't possibly be true though, can it?"

Harry sighed heavily, weighing his words carefully. "How could Javadi manage to get the Iranian government involved?" he asked, careful to avoid the (completely true) accusation.

"Ahmed Javadi is the minister in charge of the entire police service throughout the country," Towers said. "He's a very important diplomatic man, and upsetting him could put our two countries in such enmity that it'll take years to recover from. Javadi is friends with the president of Iran, for crying out loud. And you've just gone and removed his wife from right under his nose. What the hell were you thinking Harry?!"

* * *

**More soon, though it might be a couple of days. Hope you enjoyed!**


	6. Chapter 6

Harry ended the call, his mind running fast. Ruth had lied to him. A lie of omission, but still a lie. How could she not have told him what her husband does? The implications it could have on him, to be seen taking a political ministers wife away from Iran… The fact that Ruth was a British citizen would only be a minor consideration. How could she have kept that quiet?

He walked back into the kitchen and Ruth put down the paper, a smile at the corner of her lips. Her face froze when she saw his though. "Do you have to go? Terror attack?"

"No," he said. He sighed heavily, feeling beyond exhausted. "Why did you lie to me?"

"Lie?"

"About who your husband is. About how important he is in the government. You failed to mention that rather important detail."

She looked down, blushing. "I'm sorry," she said. "I know I should have told you, but I wanted to get out of there so badly."

"And you thought…" he tailed off, swallowed and then tried again. "Did you really think that if I'd known the truth I wouldn't have helped you?"

"No," she said, standing up and walking closer to him. "I didn't think that, but I also didn't want to risk it."

"God, Ruth, do you not know me?" he asked quietly, looking directly into her eyes. She felt so ashamed for lying to him about her husbands position, but she also knew that she'd do it again.

"Of course I know you," she said. "But three years is a long time. I didn't know for certain if you'd risk the… uncomfortable repercussions in your job for me. You hadn't seen me in so long, and I knew that my husband could have caused problems. I wanted to come home, so yes. I lied."

"You really don't know me, do you?" He put a hand beneath her chin, tilting her face gently upwards to his. "You have no idea how I feel about you, do you? I'd have done anything to get you back here, safely. Sneaking you out of the county away from your husband is the least I would do for you. But I needed to know, Ruth. I could have made it better. I wouldn't have taken you through an airport, where they can get hold of the CCTV and find out pretty quickly both where you've gone and who you were with. I'd have done it differently, had I known. You should have told me."

"You're right," she said. "I am sorry." He let go of her chin, but she kept looking at him with her beautiful blue eyes, and try as he might, he just couldn't stay angry at her for long. She'd been frightened, simply wanting to escape. Though it would have made him feel a lot better had she trusted him with the complete truth. "So… what now?"

"I don't know," he said. "The Iranian government are not happy, and they want you back."

"But…"

"Ruth, I'm not going to let that happen," he said immediately, seeing the fear on her face instantly. "You're not going back there." She bit her lip, but didn't look any calmer. "You're a British citizen, they might be pissed off but they can't have you back."

"Do you mean that Harry?" she asked, tears in her eyes.

"Of course I do," he said. "Even if it did cost my job, which it probably won't, I'd still be saying the same thing. Your life and your freedom are far too important to me."

"Oh Harry," she whispered, leaning into his chest. It took a moment of surprise and then he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. She felt warm and incredibly good in his arms, and he never wanted to let her go. She shifted in his arms and pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat gently. He froze, unsure of how to react, and then she did it again, her tongue flicking against his skin. She drew back a few inches, looking at him before leaning upwards and pressing her lips to his. He shouldn't react, but he couldn't help himself. Her lips were so soft and inviting, that he couldn't help kissing her back. His hands were around the small of her back, holding her close as her tongue tentatively flicked against his lips.

The kiss went on for longer than it probably should have done before Harry's common sense kicked in.

"No," he said. "We shouldn't."

"Why not?" she asked with a wide eyed innocent look he knew wasn't genuine. Effective though, especially when she leaned forward and sucked his bottom lip delicately. He groaned quietly, and she smiled.

"Because you're…" he tailed off, as he couldn't think quite how to phrase it without offending her.

"I'm not," she said quietly. "I'm not damaged or… whatever else you might be thinking but are too polite to say."

"Ruth," he murmured. He still had his arms around her waist, reluctant to let her go, but he knew they couldn't rush this. She'd only regret it, and that would break his heart.

"Harry, this isn't… just a result of coming back to the country. Or because it was you who brought me back. I've wanted to see you every day. To be here, now."

"We can't… rush this," he said. "And you know it."

She rolled her eyes slightly and pulled away from him. He felt her loss instantly and regretted stopping the embrace so early. He was about to say something, when his phone rang again. "Go," she said. "I'm sure this problem is my fault anyway. Go and rant, it's what you do best."

"Are you going to be all right on your own?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

"Dial 2904 on the phone if you need urgent help," he said.

"I will," she said. He kissed her temple gently, before he left, leaving her alone. She sighed heavily, putting her fingers to her lips. Oh, she loved the feeling of Harry's lips on hers and she wanted to feel it again. Soon, she promised herself. Right now they had more pressing things to deal with.

* * *

**More soon, hopefully over the weekend. Thank you so much for the reviews so far.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Well done to Loubelle04 who spotted the alarm code was Ruth's birthday in the last chapter. :) **

* * *

Harry got home late that night, setting the alarm before going upstairs. He desperately wanted to see Ruth, and he hoped she wasn't sleeping. He wouldn't wake her, but it would be nice to talk to her. He looked at her bedroom door which was ajar and peeked around the corner. It was empty and the bed was made. He felt a thrill of fear, as she hadn't been downstairs either. What if she'd been taken by somebody? Or what if she'd walked out? Gone somewhere without telling him where.

Then common sense caught up with him, and he saw the bedside lamp in his bedroom was on. He could see the glow under the door. Carefully he opened it, and smiled at the sight that awaited him. After a hard day at work, in spite of the seriousness of dealing with Ruth's Iranian husband, seeing her was just what he needed.

She was laying on his bed, a hardback book propped up on her knees, chewing her lip in concentration as she read. She looked beautiful, and she hadn't noticed him coming home, as absorbed as she is in her book. She frowned at the page a moment before flicking it over, clearly annoyed at something. He smiled at her with joy, running his eyes over her.

She wore pyjama shorts and an old T shirt, but nothing else. He felt hollow as he took note of a large purpling bruise on her left thigh. God, that looked painful. He scanned her, taking note of other injuries. There weren't many that he could see, but he could imagine how many she'd had over the past eighteen months. She had a small bruise peeking out from the sleeve of her T shirt, and he saw a pale white scar on her ankle. He didn't even want to think how that had happened. Maybe he shouldn't blame her for not telling the whole truth about her husbands position.

"Stupid girl," she said to herself, before turning the page again. Harry smiled at her, measuring his words before speaking.

"I always dreamed I'd come home to you in my bed one day," he said quietly. She slipped her bookmark in, then looked at him, smiling.

"I hope you don't mind," she said. "I wanted to wait for you, and I had a feeling you wouldn't disturb me if I was in my own bed."

He sat down on the bed, looking at her for a moment before taking his jacket and tie off. "I don't mind you being in my bed. Anytime."

She wrapped her arms around her legs and looked at him. "So… what's happening with… Ahmed?"

With her movement, the bruise on her thigh became very clear and he gently touched the edge of the injury. "Did he do that to you?"

"Yes," she said. It was completely pointless to lie to him anyway. She shied away from his touch, as it was painful and he dropped his hand.

"How badly hurt have you been?" he asked.

"Just… don't," she said. "I'm away from that now. Aren't I?"

"Yes," he said surely. "Things might be a bit… sticky between the UK and Iran, but they can't make you go. And I've made it clear that you wouldn't go back of your own free will too."

"Good," she said. "I am a bit worried."

"Yes," he agreed. "So am I. Judging by the amount of paperwork we've already had to drown in, I don't think Ahmed Javadi is going to give up, simply because the British government won't give you up."

"No," she said. "I agree with that."

She bit her lip in worry and then smiled as Harry planted a kiss gently on her mouth. "He won't touch you again."

"Don't make me you promises you can't keep."

"I'll do my best to keep it, then," he said.

"I wanted to ask you something," she said. "For a long time… I mean… I've slept next to someone for a long time now." She stuttered, and he could see she was a little embarrassed about asking this. "I don't rest easy when I'm alone. Would it be okay if we slept together? I only mean to sleep, and I…"

He put two fingers over her lips to make her stop talking and he felt a warm glow inside. After all she'd been through, she didn't just trust him enough to sleep next to her, she actively wanted his company. He felt hope that they could have a relationship, even though it was too soon for that. One day. "You're more than welcome to sleep wherever you want to in my house," he said. "Even the bathtub if that'd make you happy."

She giggled, a delightful sound that had him smiling. "I think your bed will be more than welcome. Thank you."

"I'm just going to.." he nodded in the direction of the bathroom and she smiled. "I'll only be five minutes."

"Okay," she said. She watched him leave, and got under the duvet cover. Sharing a bed with Harry had been a dream of hers for many years now. She couldn't quite believe it was happening. Sharing a bed with Harry Peace. She felt her face split into a grin. Even in spite of everything, their circumstances, Ahmed… she was looking forward to tonight.

Harry came back, five minutes later, wearing a T shirt and boxer shorts, and looking incredibly uncomfortable. "I can… go," she said, feeling her happy balloon burst.

"No," he said. "I just…" he forced himself to relax, which was only partially successful. He got into bed next to her before finishing his thought. "It's been a long time since anyone's been in my bed except for me."

"A long time?" she said. "I find that hard to believe, a man as attractive as you."

"Well, it's true," he said, putting an arm around her shoulders. "I'm not going to lie, I've had… liaisons, but never here. They never even knew my real name."

"Well, I feel honoured then," she said. She leaned over and whispered into his ear seductively. "Harry."

"Oh, don't do that," he whispered. He leaned over her and kissed her, and she moaned. Not a good moan either. "What's wrong?"

"No, nothing," she said quickly, too quickly.

"Ruth…"

"I may have bruised my ribcage," she said. Harry looked at her for a moment before lifting her shirt gently. The bruising on her right side was awful. How incredible that she'd not mentioned it before. She must have been in agony.

"What did he do to you?" Harry asked, his voice deathly quiet.

"Nothing, I fell down the stairs."

"Don't lie to me," he said in a hiss.

"No, Harry," she said. "I'm not lying. Believe it or not, I did actually fall down the stairs. And it didn't hurt that much when I did it, but it's… twinged a bit today."

"I'm not surprised. I'm taking you to hospital to get checked out," he said, getting out of bed.

"No, don't," she said, grabbing his arm. "Please don't. It'll still hurt tomorrow. We can wait until tomorrow."

"Ruth," he said. "How…?"

"I was racing around, trying to get my things together," she said. "To meet you and go to the airport. I stopped paying attention to where I was walking and I slipped down the stairs. It didn't hurt when I did it, and it seemed pointless to mention it."

"Is that where the cut in your eyebrow was from?"

"Yes," she said. "My side just got… a bit bad today. I'll be fine."

"Ruth, I want you to be checked out by a hospital tomorrow," he said firmly. "That's the only reason I'm not driving you there now myself."

"Fine," she agreed. "Now let me sleep."

"Okay," he said. "Goodnight Ruth."

"Night Harry."

* * *

**More soon, probably on Monday. Massive thanks to those who are reading, and especially reviewing.**


	8. Chapter 8

Harry awoke first. He was too worried about Ruth to sleep deeply. Those bruises on her side were incredibly worrying, and it was against his better judgement that he'd let her wait until the morning. He still wasn't entirely convinced that she'd done it falling down the stairs either, but in the end it didn't really matter.

He turned to Ruth and smiled. She looked peaceful and content and incredibly beautiful. Her hair was a tangled mess over her face and he thought she looked stunning and relaxed. The arm of her T shirt had moved upwards, and he could see a small round scar there, near her shoulder. Was that…? No, it couldn't be. It was though. It looked like a cigarette burn. "Oh Ruth…" he murmured sadly.

He reached for her, a hand on her hip before he could stop himself. The material of her T shirt was thin, and he could feel both her warmth, and the hardness of her bone beneath his fingers. Usually he had such self control, but not when it came to her, it seemed.

"Mm," she murmured, shifting closer to him. She managed to slide her palms under his shirt, so quickly that he knew she couldn't be sleeping.

"Ruth, open your eyes," he said.

"No," she replied, her hands skimming over his chest. "I'm enjoying myself." He chuckled but didn't move as her hands glided over his skin, so sensually.

"I meant it last night," he said. "I want you checked out by a hospital today."

She sighed and took her hands back, opening her eyes. "I'm fine."

"Ruth, I want you…"

"Harry, I don't care what you want!" she said, sitting up, her eyes blazing with anger. "You can't tell me what to do! I've spent so many months, day after day being told what to do, how to do it and when. I am not going to live that way any longer! You keep pushing me to do things I don't want to, then I'll leave you!" He stayed perfectly quiet, not moving an inch after that outburst. "I'm sorry," she said when the silence became too uncomfortable. "I just… can't stand being told what to do any more."

"I know," he said. "I wasn't trying to… I just think it would be wise if you were checked out by someone medical. I wasn't trying to tell you what you should do. I'm sorry if I made you feel that way."

"I snapped," she said. "It's not you I'm shouting at. I'm sorry." She pinched the bridge of her nose in irritation. "That's not the way I wanted to wake up with you today."

"Don't apologise," he said. "It's fine."

"Look, I will," she said. "I'll get my side checked, but I'll do it in my own time."

"Okay," he agreed. "I'm…"

"Lets just… forget it," she said. "Please?"

"Do you want bacon for breakfast?" he asked, in an effort to move past it.

"I'll have a shower first, but then yes," she said. "Can I just…" She pressed a chaste kiss to his lips and he smiled at the effort more than the kiss itself.

"I'll start cooking then," he said, forcing a smile as he got out of bed. She nodded, feeling very guilty for her outburst. She knew why, but that didn't help her right now.

* * *

The brief moments they spent together that morning were uncomfortable to say the least. Soon enough Harry was called into work and she wanted to know how to make it up to him. "Harry?" she said, when he was at the door.

"Forget it," he said. "Really." He kissed her softly and she smiled.

"I'll go to the hospital," she said. "Have a good day."

"Call if you need anything." And with that, he'd gone.

* * *

That evening Ruth sat in the kitchen, waiting for Harry to get home. She'd cooked a roast and it was staying warm in the oven, but she hoped Harry wouldn't be too much longer, otherwise it might be ruined. She'd had a busy day today. First, before she'd done anything else, she'd gone to the hospital. Her ribcage _was_ only bruising, but she knew Harry had been right to insist on a doctor looking at it. She'd gone and got her hair cut, so it was shorter again, the same length as it had been last time she'd been in London. She'd borrowed some money from Harry as he'd told her he didn't mind, and she had every intention of paying him back once the money from her house sale appeared in her account, which should happen soon. She'd then done some shopping, as she hadn't taken much with her from Tehran.

Ruth had expected to feel nervous, alone on the London streets, but she hadn't. It had been exhilarating, to hear English being so widely spoken, to be free to go wherever she wanted to. She'd loved it. It was wonderful to be in her capital city again. _Home_.

She poured another glass of merlot, hoping Harry would arrive by the time she'd finished the bottle. She hadn't asked what time he'd get back, as him working late probably had a lot to do with Ahmed. She smoothed her hands down her black dress and sighed. She wasn't quite sure if she was intending to seduce Harry tonight or not, but she did know they'd been too busy to have a proper evening together yet.  
The lock turned and she smiled. Harry walked into the kitchen, stopping as he saw the candlelight, the wine and her. She stood up, smiling at him. "I wanted to do something special," she explained. "For us to enjoy."

"You cut your hair," he said softly.

"Yes," she said. He reached for her and gently ran his fingers through the strands, his palm ending on her neck.

"You look beautiful." He kissed her, letting his lips slowly caress hers. When they parted, she was breathless and her eyes were sparkling with pleasure.

"I wanted to talk to you," she said. "About this morning."

"Ruth…"

"No," she said. "I shouldn't have said that. I don't want to leave here, and I especially don't want to leave you, and I shouldn't threaten that. But I want you to take… if I shout, I'm not shouting at you. I want you to take what I say with a pinch of salt. Not to take it too seriously"

"Okay," he said, picking up the glass of wine she'd poured him and taking a sip. "You do know… I'd never hurt you, Ruth."

"I know that," she said. "My rational side knows that. I might react… badly though. I can't help my reactions, it'll only heal with time."

"Okay," he said. He kissed her again, carefully.

"How was work?" she said, moving to get dinner out of the oven.

"Fine," he said.

"And… Ahmed?"

"How about we don't talk about him tonight?" Harry said. "This looks like… it might be a nice evening. I don't want to spoil it."

"Take your jacket off then," she said, matter of factly. He did, taking off his tie too, before smiling at her.

"You didn't have to… do this."

"I know," she said. "I wanted to."

* * *

**More when it's written. Thank you for the reviews so far.**


	9. Chapter 9

Their meals were polished off amazingly quickly, as was most of the wine. "That was wonderful," Harry said sincerely.

"Good," she said. "I got checked out this morning. I'm fine."

"I'm glad," he said. "I'm sorry I pushed."

"Forget it," she said, smiling. "I sort of… like that you worry about me. Most of the time anyway."

Harry got up, and fiddled with the CD player for a moment. Suddenly a slow song started playing and he turned to her. "Do you want to dance with me?"

She bit her lip for a second before smiling. "You know what, I'd love to." She stood up and walked closer to him, feeling a thrill of nerves as he settled his hand around her waist. "I'm not a great dancer," she said.

"I think you're in safe hands," he murmured, his voice low and seductive, making her shiver. She swayed in time to the music, her hands around his neck, toying with his hair lightly as she stared deeply into his eyes. Her heart was fluttering in her chest as he looked at her with such warmth, as if she'd never been away. As if those three years just didn't matter at all, which in a way, they didn't. His thumbs started softly circling her skin, through the fabric of her dress, almost hypnotically. His touch felt incredible, she was just annoyed there was clothing in the way. _No_. She tried to close down that line of thought instantly, and wasn't entirely successful. She knew that Harry wouldn't have sex with her tonight, no matter how much she might want it. He was far too honourable, and wouldn't take advantage of her. She knew that. It didn't meant she couldn't enjoy the moment right now.

She leant her head against his chest, as his arms tightened around her. She could feel him everywhere, his warm, solid, reassuring presence against her body. Slowly his hands rose up her back, feeling her skin as they danced and she felt a shiver as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Looking up at him, she felt a smile hover on her lips, before she leaned forward and kissed him. His lips were soft and welcoming, and within moments, their tongues were caressing each other. He cradled her head with one hand, fingers tangling in her hair, the other at her waist. He had such wonderfully large hands, she thought, as she reached forward and started to unbutton his shirt.

She could feel him pause for a moment, but then her fingers started to touch his bare skin, moving across his chest and his hesitation vanished. He kissed her deeply, and she arched into him. She loved how he felt against her, and the kiss went on for endless minutes.

Suddenly she cried out in surprise as she found her back pressed against the wall, without remembering how she got there, Harry's hand having slid under her dress and wrapped around her thigh, stroking her skin. He looked deep in her eyes, filled with both lust and wariness.

"No," she said, quickly placing her hand over his, keeping his touch on her leg. "Don't stop."

"Ruth," he said quietly, but not moving his palm either. "We're not…" he paused, unable to think how to say it without being horribly blunt. "We're not going to have sex tonight."

"I know that." She pressed a light kiss to his jaw, her fingers running through his hair slowly. "But that doesn't mean we have to stop, does it?" Her hands were making her case for him, sliding over his skin sensually, and he looked into her sparkling eyes. Besides, he knew perfectly well that, in spite of the logical side of his brain, he didn't want to stop. He moved forward and kissed her again, thoroughly enjoying the embrace. She pulled at his shirt, sliding her hands underneath and gently stroking his back He moaned against her lips, feeling sparks from her fingertips.

He moved away from her, knowing that if this went on any longer, he'd lose all restraint he had left. "We have to stop." She smiled, but didn't argue. Her face was flushed, eyes bright with desire and he wanted her badly.

"I'm going to go up to bed, then," she said. Ruth leaned closer and kissed his cheek briefly. "See you upstairs."

He watched her walk away, hearing her climb the stairs, then he rubbed his face vigorously. "Get a grip," he whispered to himself. "You can't sleep with her. Not now." He refused to take advantage of her when she was vulnerable, even if she wanted it. There'd be time for them later, when she was healed. He'd make sure of that.

* * *

Harry found Ruth curled up in his bed, smiling at him. "You don't mind?"

"No," he said, though the chances of him getting any sleep at all were much slimmer with her as a temptation. He smiled, then went into the bathroom for a few minutes, to calm himself down. When he got into bed, she surprised him with a light kiss.

He bit his lip, knowing that they had to talk about the elephant in the room. "Ruth, we need to talk about Ahmed," he said.

"No," she said. "Well, we do, but not now." She smiled at him. "It's been a wonderful evening, I don't want to ruin it by talking about him." Harry let her put him off, and then she rolled closer to him. "Can you just hold me for a minute? You make me feel… safe." He was more than happy to, and wrapped his arms around her. She moaned in pain as his hand tightened around her bruised side and he instantly moved it, inadvertently sliding his hand lower, around the curve of her bum. "Oh," she said under her breath, snuggling closer to him. "Mm." He didn't move his hand, enjoying the feel of her body too much to move.

"Sleep," he said quietly, knowing it was unlikely he'd follow his own advice. However Ruth was out like a light.

* * *

**Thank you all for the enthusiasm for this story. It shouldn't be too long until the next chapter's up.**


	10. Chapter 10

**I may be edging towards M rated subject matter here. **

* * *

In the morning, Harry knew he couldn't put if off any longer. "We need to talk," he said over breakfast. She nodded, and Harry turned his phone off, not wanting to be interrupted by anything from the grid. They could wait.

"I know we do," she agreed, wrapping her hands around her mug of tea. "It's Ahmed, isn't it?"

"Yes," he said. "Firstly, Malcolm isn't sure whether your marriage to him is even legal." Ruth widened her eyes, but said nothing. "You did marry him, but not under your real name, you used the legend Malcolm prepared for you before you left London. So he's looking into whether you need to do anything, or if it's not even a marriage, so you don't need to go through… divorce proceedings." He looked at her still face, her eyes glazed over and felt a little foolish. "I assume you want… the marriage over?" he dared to ask.

"God, yes," she said fervently, her gaze snapping back to him. "Of course I do. You can't think I want to be married to him?"

"Well, no," he said. "I didn't. Just… checking." He sighed, and then went straight ahead, asking what had been nagging at the back of his mind ever since he saw her in Tehran. "Ruth, why didn't you get into contact with me sooner?" he asked. "I could have helped you, I could have got you out of there so much quicker. Why did you leave it so long?"

"I don't know," she said. "It wasn't that I didn't think of you. Never that, because I thought of you everyday. You seemed… and my life in London seemed just so far away. Like it was someone else's life, and the thought of you coming to Tehran… I thought you probably would have, had I asked. But if you'd come and found me married, I thought it would badly hurt you. And I still… even then, I still wanted a chance for us. Thousands of miles away, and all I wanted was you. So, I wanted to somehow get rid of Ahmed before trying to get into contact with you. Because I didn't want you to turn your back on me. To maybe think that I was possibly in love with this man. Because if I were in love with someone else, you'd have left me alone. You're honourable, Harry."

She was right. Had he believed her to be in love with another man, it would have broken his heart. But he wouldn't have interfered and he would have let her go. "

Maybe I wasn't thinking straight," she said, going on. "I don't have a good reason, except maybe I thought that London was no longer an option for me. I didn't know my name had been cleared after all." He sighed, but knew he wouldn't get a better answer than that. She didn't have it to give.

"Okay," he said. "I would have helped you. If you'd asked a year ago."

"It helps that I'm no longer a fugitive," she said. "Because if you really had the power to help me when I was, I would never have got on that boat to France in the first place."

"You're right," he said. "I can't fix everything." She smiled at him, a genuine smile.

"You try though," she said.

"Maybe." An uncomfortable silence ensued and he kept his face blank, trying to think about how to ask her what was on his mind. He couldn't think of how to word it sensitively, but he needed to know. And it wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation. In the event, she broke the silence first, reaching for his hand across the kitchen table.

"Just say it," she said. "Whatever it is. I'm not going to run from you."

He squeezed her hand tightly, then let go. "Ruth, did he rape you?" he asked softly. It had occurred to him before, several times, but with saying the words, the images that flooded his mind were far from pleasant.

She shrugged and shook her head, looking at the table instead of at him. "I don't know if you'd call it rape," she said. "He wasn't particularly abusive in that way. Preferred his fists. And I never said no either. It's just… more often than not it would be so much easier to just lie there for a few minutes until he was finished. I wanted an easy life, Harry." She still wasn't looking at him. The silence was heavy and it stretched out between them, seemingly unending. "Would you say something?" she asked.

"Not until you look at me." She took a deep breath, and waited a few seconds before lifting her head. His hazel eyes were open, looking at her without any pity or disdain, but a little concern.

"If I ever touch you, and you don't want me to, or you don't like it, please tell me no," he said. "Tell me to stop.""

She smiled a little. She couldn't imagine a touch from him being unwelcome, but knew he needed this reassurance from her. Otherwise he wouldn't touch her intimately again. "Harry, I don't have any fear of saying no to _you_." He swallowed at the implication of her words, that she had been afraid of Ahmed, and put his hand on the table, palm up waiting for her to take it. She did a few seconds later, squeezing tightly.

"I don't like talking about him. Do you want to say anything else while we're on the subject?" Harry thought about it, debating what to say. What could he say? He already knew the worst he'd done to her. Losing her child had been the terrible push she needed to contact him, what could have been worse than that?

"Not that I can think of," he said. "I'm sorry, it's just we have to talk about it."

"I know," she said. "It doesn't mean I like it." He nodded, squeezing her hand again, as the doorbell rang. Ruth started and looked at herself. She still wore an oversized T shirt and her pyjama shorts, which she was quite happy for Harry to see her in, but no one else. "I'll just get dressed," she said, rushing upstairs. Harry cursed the intruder, but opened the door anyway. Much to his surprise, it was Malcolm. He felt his anxiety levels ratchet up. Malcolm wouldn't come to his house this early in the morning unless it was important.

"Come in," he said without preliminary. Malcolm did, following Harry through to the kitchen. "Do you want a drink?"

"No, I won't intrude," Malcolm said, noticing two empty mugs on the table, and not wanting to interrupt anything between Harry and Ruth that he might have walked in on. "I just wanted to let you know."

"Know what?"

"Ahmed Javadi got on a plane thirty minutes ago."

"To Heathrow?" Harry asked, guessing what was coming.

"Gatwick," Malcolm said with a shake of his head. The specific airport hardly mattered. "I'm going to have him followed once he lands, but…"

"Yes," Harry said heavily. "But." He bit his lip, thinking it through. "Right, I want extra security on my house…"

"It's done," Malcolm interrupted. "But it's going to be easier to keep an eye on Ruth if she doesn't leave the house."

"I can't tell her to do that," Harry said, though he privately agreed. "She doesn't like it when she's told to do something, and to be honest, after what she's been through, I can't blame her." Malcolm said nothing, waiting for Harry to think it through. "When does he land?"

"About two pm."

"Okay," he said. "I'll come into work this morning, but I'll be with Ruth once he lands."

"I understand," he said. "I just wanted to let you know, as soon as I could."

"Thank you." Malcolm didn't stay long, wanting to get back on his surveillance, leaving Harry alone, thinking about Ruth's bloody husband.

* * *

**More when it's written. Massive thank you for the reviews so far.**


	11. Chapter 11

Harry was left slightly speechless when Ruth appeared again, this time dressed. She wore tight jeans and a white T shirt, like nothing he'd ever seen her in before. It showed off her figure beautifully, and he knew she was wearing things she hadn't been able to over the past few years. He could just look at her for hours, and she seemed unaware of her effect on him. "Who was at the door?" He shut his jaw and looked at her face. She was smiling, so maybe she _was_ a little aware of her effect on him, then.

"Malcolm."

"Oh," Ruth said. The happiness faded, and she could guess what was coming. "So…"

"He'll be at Gatwick early this afternoon. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she said. "I knew he'd come."

* * *

Harry had gone to work, leaving Ruth alone in the house. She felt more than a little on edge, and she didn't know what to do with herself. After about an hour of this, she called Harry.

"Are you okay?" he asked, as soon as he picked up the phone.

"Fine," she said. "Look, I'm at a loose end today. Can you bring some… translating home? Or something to keep my mind clear. Nothing high clearance or dangerous, just…"

"To keep your mind working," he said, understanding where she was coming from. "I'll get some files to take home."

"Thank you," she said. "I'm going to… go out for a walk. He won't land for a few hours, and I'm going crazy staring at these four walls."

"Yes," he said, feeling anxious but knowing he couldn't stop her. "Just… could you call me when you get home safely?"

"Of course I will," she said. "Bye Harry."

* * *

It was a nice day, albeit cold. The sun was out, even though the wind was bitter. She didn't have a coat, so she'd borrowed one she'd found. It was oversized, but warm and it smelt faintly of Harry. She found it very comforting, especially when she was wary and anxious because of Ahmed's imminent arrival. She walked, without paying much attention to where she was going, enjoying the London day as much as she was able to under the circumstances.

Somehow, she found herself walking past a playground, and she stopped, drawn to it. There were two girls playing, similar enough to be twins, screaming and laughing. Ruth looked around and saw two women watching the children as they sipped their coffee. She felt a lump in her throat about the life she'd lost, the opportunities that had slipped past her. Maybe if things had happened differently, she'd be watching her child here. Her daughter. She had so wanted that baby. Even though she hadn't been that far along, she'd imagined this new life in detail.

Soon enough, the children and their parents went on their way, but Ruth didn't leave. Her mind was running a hundred miles an hour, and she could feel the pool of grief sucking her back in.

"Ruth." She turned in surprise, wiping the tears off her face.

"Harry, what are you doing here?"

"You've been stood here for hours," he said. "I'm sorry, but I was getting worried, so I tracked you down."

She looked at her watch, amazed that it was already half past two. She really had been stood there for hours. She rubbed her face in agitation. "I got lost… in thought."

"I know," he said. The sadness on his face made it clear that he knew precisely what she was thinking. "I'm not going to ask if you're all right. I am going to ask you to please come home."

"Yes," she said. "I didn't mean to stay." She looked around and saw Harry's car. She'd been there for hours, and she'd had no intention of making Harry worry about her. Once they were in the car, they were silent. Harry reached for her hand before turning the engine on, and he squeezed her fingers for a moment.

"I know there probably isn't," he said. "But is there anything I can do?"

"Not really," she said. Then after a moment, she changed her mind. "Actually, I could really do with fish and chips for supper," she said. "Doused in vinegar."

"I can do that," he said, smiling at her. Then he drove off, taking her home.

* * *

The rest of that day wasn't enjoyable. They were both on edge, waiting for reports from Malcolm as to Ahmed's current location. Harry couldn't have the entire grid on the case, as a current terror threat was taking most of their resources. As Harry was at home with Ruth, further reducing their staff, he could hardly complain. But he'd rather be here, keeping an eye on her. Just in case.

Ruth was far away from him today, her eyes glazed over, her mind anywhere but here. He didn't know if it was because Ahmed was in London, the grief of losing her child which seemed to have overwhelmed her today, both, or something else. But it didn't even matter, she wasn't with him in spirit any more.

As promised, he got a takeaway of fish and chips that evening, and when they were eating, Ruth turned to him. "I'm sorry. I know I'm not really… here."

"No," he said gently.

"I'm… I'm frightened."

"I won't let him get near you," he said firmly. "Ruth, you're safe."

"I rationally know that, but I'm still… scared." She reached across the table for his hand, squeezing tightly. "Because he's only in Britain for one reason."

Try as he might, there was simply no arguing with her logic. Because she was right.

* * *

**A little bit of an in between chapter, before the action coming up! Thanks for reading and reviewing this fic so far.**


	12. Chapter 12

**This is the action chapter I think everyone's been waiting for. Might be a few days before the next update.**

* * *

Ruth woke up with a start. It was the middle of the night, and she felt very disorientated. The only thing anchoring her were Harry's hands on her body, one around her waist, the other between her thighs. He must have moved in his sleep, but his hands felt incredibly good on her skin. She wanted to kiss him, but knew that that would wake him, so she held back. She was really thirsty, and she reluctantly pulled away from him, but he didn't want to let go.

"No, don't go," he murmured sleepily. He pulled her close to him, the hand around her waist sliding up to cup her breast. She stilled for a moment in surprise, then smiled. He felt good. Well, more than good, but she really had to move.

"Harry," she said quietly. "I need to…" She broke off as she heard a smash from downstairs, like a window breaking. "Wake up!" she hissed, but she didn't need to. The noise already had him awake. He pulled his hands off of her, barely paying her any attention. He was completely rigid with tension, alert and listening, a lifetime of training.

"Get out of bed," he whispered, doing the same. She did, then watched as he lifted up the mattress. He removed two handguns very quickly, and Ruth's eyes widened as he checked they were loaded.

"How long have they been there?" she asked.

"I don't think that matters right now," he said. He passed her a gun which she took hesitantly. Then she heard footsteps downstairs, and tightened her grip on the gun. She knew she could use it if she had to. She watched as Harry sent an emergency call to the grid, then froze as she heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Harry?" she whispered. He put a finger to his lips, telling her to be quiet as he gripped the gun, pointing it at the closed bedroom door. Ruth felt her heart racing, unsure of what to do. Then the door opened.

Harry shot twice, after the man walked in, clearly not aiming to kill. He kicked the gun out of the intruders hand, as the man on the floor moaned in pain. The man could be Iranian, and Harry spoke without looking at Ruth. "Turn the light on."

She did, walking closer to the injured man with trepidation. When she saw his face she relaxed. "Is it…?"

"No," Ruth said, watching the stranger writhe in pain. "That's not Ahmed." Then everything happened incredibly quickly. The door flew open, and that split second of distraction was all that was needed. Ruth cried out as she was grabbed from behind, struggling to get free. She knew without seeing his face, that it was Ahmed. She could just feel it. Then she stopped struggling as she felt the cold metal of a gun barrel against the back of her head. She looked at Harry, holding a gun steady as he pointed it at her. Well, not at her exactly, but it looked and felt like it. Her own gun had fallen to the floor, lost in the struggle.

"Let her go," Harry said calmly. More calmly than Ruth thought reasonable under the circumstances.

"I don't think so," Ahmed said, getting his breath back. "I want her back, and you are going to let me walk out of here with her."

"No I'm not," he said. "If you want to leave Britain alive, you will put her down and walk out of here, catching the next flight back to Tehran, and never set foot in this country again. Otherwise, I will kill you." Harry's voice wasn't threatening, but it carried a promise in the words.

"You won't kill me, Pearce," he said. "It would cost you your job."

"I don't care," Harry said. "You'd already be dead if you didn't have a gun to her head." Ruth noticed that he wasn't looking at her, but directly at Ahmed. She hoped she didn't look as afraid as she felt.

"But I do have a gun to her head," Ahmed said.

"If your main purpose was to kill her, she'd be dead. You want her back in Tehran, a dead wife is no use to you."

"An adulterous one isn't much use either," Ahmed said, getting angry. Ruth could hear it in his voice and she moaned as his arm tightened around her waist, feeling like an iron bar. "Do you know what they do to unfaithful wives in Tehran?"

"Let her go," Harry repeated, trying to stay calm and buy time. Ruth suddenly remembered that back up was on the way from the grid, so this stale mate wouldn't last too long.

"No."

"Even if you get her back to Tehran, you won't get away with it. Ruth will come back to Britain."

"I am not the subject of a tug of war," Ruth said, indignant, even with a gun to her head.

"Be quiet," Ahmed said with disdain. She felt a wave of anger brim up inside her. She fought it back with difficulty as it wasn't useful or productive right now.

"Ahmed, I'm going to ask you once more. Let her go, or your life will be a short one."

Ahmed laughed quietly. "You're in no position to make demands."

"How about now?" Harry felt the tension relaxing, as Adam's shadow came into view. He had a gun pressed against Ahmed's back and Harry knew the situation was over. There was no way it could end against them now. "Drop the gun," Adam said. "And take your hands off her."

Ahmed did, slowly, and as soon as she heard the gun hit the floor, she raced over to Harry, who wrapped one arm around her, keeping the gun trained on Ahmed.

"Kneel, hands behind your head." Harry waited until Ahmed complied before speaking.

"Adam," Harry said quietly. "I think you should go downstairs." Adam surveyed the scene, including the unknown Iranian on the floor (who seemed to have lost consciousness) and then nodded once, leaving them alone. They all heard multiple footsteps retreating, and knew that C019 had arrived with Adam. The thought was reassuring for them, but probably not Ahmed by the look on his face.

"Ruth, what do you want to do?" Harry asked quietly. She thought for almost a minute in silence, debating the options.

"Give me the gun, Harry," she said. He looked at her once, then nodded, handing it over. She pointed it at Ahmed who smiled at her.

"Are you really going to shoot me Ruth?" he said. "I don't believe for a second you'd pull that trigger. Too weak. Pathetic. You don't have it in you to shoot me, and we both know it. Stupid woman."

The suddenness of the shot made Harry flinch, the silence seeming complete after the loudness of the gun. Then she pulled the trigger again, dropping the gun onto the floor with a thunk. She wiped the tears away from her face, suddenly noticing she'd been crying. Then she felt Harry's hand pulling her close and wrapping around her. She slowly and completely fell apart.


	13. Chapter 13

They didn't get back to bed until five in the morning. Getting rid of Ahmed's body unobtrusively had taken a few hours, and to make a cover story that wouldn't have Ruth implicated for murder. They were both ignoring the blood stained carpet as they got into bed. As it was the middle of the night, there was little they could do about it.

"I killed him," Ruth whispered, curling into Harry's chest. "I actually shot him, oh God!" He held her as she sobbed, unsure of what to say to her. Unsure of which words would make her feel worse.

"He would have killed you, Ruth," he said quietly. "Maybe not today, but one day."

"I know," she said. "That doesn't make me feel much better."

"I don't think anything will do that except time," he said, speaking from experience.

"How do you get over it?" she asked. "How do you live with the guilt? Knowing that you've ended someone else's life?"

"You don't," he said quietly. "You just… move past it. Put it aside, knowing that it was the right decision. Because the person you killed had tried or would try to kill you." She kissed his chest lightly, enjoying and needing the comfort he was giving her. "Do you think you can sleep?"

"No," she said. "But I'll try." They fell silent, and she ended up dozing lightly, Harry stroking her hair lightly in a wonderfully reassuring manner.

* * *

"I need to go," Harry said over breakfast. They hadn't really spoke much since the night before, the silence being a little oppressive but neither knowing what to say.

"I know."

"I need to… talk to Adam."

"Go," she said easily. He leaned over her and kissed her gently, making it last a lot longer than necessary. "I'll be fine."

Harry nodded, then left, leaving Ruth with nothing to think about but the shots she'd fired just a few hours before. She could still hear them, echoing in her mind.

* * *

Harry walked across the Millennium footbridge, seeing Adam waiting for him. He had insisted on meeting away from the grid to talk about the disposal of Ahmed's body. "Well?" Harry asked as he stood next to his friend.

"How's Ruth?"

"Not great," Harry said. "Unsurprisingly. What's the cover story?"

"Ahmed Javadi's body is currently being flown back to Tehran," Adam said. "He was visiting a less than reputable brothel when he got into a fight and was in a back alley when he was shot. He was drunk," Adam added for effect.

"Will Tehran buy it?"

"Yes," Adam said. "They have little other choice, even if they suspect otherwise. We've bribed a few girls on one of our… agencies, to say they saw Ahmed there last night. We've switched his blood for alcohol levels too, and we have an asset from six in Tehran… would they like to double check the results."

"That's good," Harry said. "The other man?"

"His name is Golnaz Talebi," Adam said. "Works for the Iranian Ministry of Intelligence. He'll live."

"I didn't intend to kill him," Harry said honestly. "What's he saying about… what happened?"

"Well, it wasn't an operation, it was more a favour to Ahmed Javadi from what I gather. He doesn't want to be placed there any more than we do. It would cost him his job and possibly his freedom, as he wasn't doing what he was supposed to do. For some reason he was meant to be in Paris, and this was going to be a quick detour. I think he'll keep his mouth shut."

"Are you sure enough?" Harry asked. This Golnaz was a loose end. But he had been unconscious when Ruth shot her former husband, so maybe it would be safe to let him go back to Tehran.

"Yes," Adam said. "After all, he has no knowledge or memory of how Ahmed died. He might suspect, but he doesn't know, and right now he's got his tail between his legs. He doesn't like being in a British hospital."

"I don't like letting him go," Harry admitted.

"Do you want to kill him?" Adam asked bluntly. "That's the only way to guarantee his silence." Put like that, it was cold and calculating and it felt too much like murder. Harry had killed people, obviously but usually in self defence, or because he had no other choice. The few he had killed for revenge, or because they were too dangerous to allow to live, those few who hadn't threatened him personally were the ones that haunted him. He'd be quite happy not to add another one to that list.

"No," Harry said. "Keep an eye on him though."

"I will," Adam said.

"Is there anything else?"

"Is Ruth staying here?"

"I imagine so," Harry said. "I doubt she'll want to leave, but we haven't really… talked about it." He realised for the first time that they'd been living under the fear and shadow of her husband ever since she'd come back to London. They'd never talked about their relationship or her plans.

"Look, Harry," Adam started. "I need you back at work, or I need extra staff. We're drowning on the grid, and we need to keep the country safe. I need more staff to work with. I can't keep it running like this."

"I know," Harry said. "Send some of the urgent stuff to my home email address, and I'll work from home this afternoon. I'll be in as normal from tomorrow. I know I've asked a lot from you."

"It's fine," Adam said. "As long as you…"

"Pick up the slack," he agreed. "I will."

* * *

**More soon. Thanks for the enthusiasm for this story.**


	14. Chapter 14

When Harry got home, he was slightly surprised to see Ruth on his laptop, notepad and pen in front of her and a look of concentration on her face.

"I hope you don't mind," she said, nodding at the computer.

"No," he said honestly. He did ask out of curiosity though. "How on earth did you get past the password protection?"

"I may be out of practise, but I can do a little hacking now and then," she said, a twinkle in her eye. "I didn't look at anything sensitive, I promise. I just needed an internet connection."

"For what?" he asked.

She sighed and bit her lip. "I'm looking for flats to rent."

"Oh." He looked over her shoulder at the screen and saw several different rentals. "So you're… leaving?" he said.

"I need my own space, Harry," she said quietly. "I can't be here and rely on you for everything. I think I need to just… breathe."

"Okay," he said, feeling his heart drop. She reached for his hand and squeezed, smiling at him.

"It doesn't mean I feel for you any less," she said. "Honestly."

"I know," he said. "I do like having you here, but I understand. How are you?" he added, switching on the kettle.

"I'm… okay. Which under the circumstances is pretty good."

"Tea?" he asked. She nodded, smiling.

"How was Adam?" she asked.

"Fine. Overworked, but fine. And the Iranians should buy the cover story too."

"Good," she said. "I don't want to have to think about him any more."

"Right," he said. He made her tea in the quiet, handed it to her, then kissed the top of her head, making her smile. He sat down, looking at the file on the table which he hadn't noticed before. It was the translating he'd brought home for her yesterday, which seemed such a long time ago. He'd all but forgotten it, but he opened the file out of curiosity. It was all completed. He could read the German and the French, but not the rest of the file, and he was surprised to see some Chinese at the very back. Harry hadn't checked the contents of the file when he'd picked it up, just took it from one of the translators desks who was more than happy to get rid of it. The translator in question had low clearance, so he didn't think there'd be anything too sensitive in there.

"When did you have time to do this?" he asked, flicking through it. "And when did you learn Chinese?"

"Oh, Mandarin," she said. "I've always spoken it. Or, ever since I've known you, I should say."

"It's not in your personnel file," he said with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, no," she said. "I had quite a few languages on there already, and when I was applying for the job I didn't want to make it seem like I was showing off. So I dropped Mandarin. I haven't practised it in a while though, so you may want to have that double checked," she added, nodding at the file.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," he said. "After all, you don't do anything by halves." She smiled at him.

She smiled, then went back to the earlier subject. "I'm going to have a look around a few flats tomorrow. I've made some appointments."

"Okay," he said.

"They're not too far from here, I just want my own space."

"Not too far?" he asked quietly.

"I don't want to be on the other side of the city from you, do I?" She leaned across the kitchen table and kissed him gently. "St Mary's south street, and Queen street."

"Oh," he said, feeling a warm relief spread through him. They were both a five minute walk away, no more. "How are you?" he asked. "After last night…"

"I feel guilty," she said simply. "For killing a man. It doesn't matter who it was, I still shot him." Harry said nothing, knowing reassurance was pointless. "I shouldn't have killed him."

"Maybe," he said. "But you can't think like that. Over analysing the situation, wondering how different it could have ended. It will drive you crazy."

"Experience?"

"Yes," he said. He smiled warmly into her eyes, a smile she returned. "And I'm sorry, but I'm going to need the laptop. Adam's sending me over some paperwork I need to read. Considering I've not exactly been on top of things at work lately."

"My fault," she said. "I'm sorry," she added, closing down the internet browser and handing the computer over.

"Tomorrow I'm going to have the bedroom carpet replaced," he added as they were almost on the subject anyway.

"Good," she said heavily. "It's not exactly the nicest thing in your bedroom." He wondered if she knew that her words didn't sound as innocent as she'd intended, especially as her voice lowered on the word "bedroom." Then she smiled at him, her eyes sparkling. She knew. He sighed, and then took the plunge.

"Ruth, we need to talk," he said.

"About?"

"About everything," he said. "Us. Do you want to come back to work? We need to talk about it."

"I know," she said. "I've been thinking about working. But… the grid? No. I don't want to come back. If I went back to Thames House it would be for you, not because I want the job, or need the job. I don't want to be cast out again. Or die, which is a distinct possibility, working for MI5."

"Okay," he said quietly. That was the minor problem decided. Now the harder one. The more personal one. "What about…"

"Us?" she asked with a smile. "I want there to be an us. I want us to have a relationship. It doesn't have to be complicated, does it?"

"It doesn't have to be," he agreed. "It usually is with us, though." She smiled at that.

"Well, yes," she said. She sighed and moved her chair, so she was right next to him and leaned her head on his chest gently. He wrapped an arm around her and kissed her head again.

"Do you need some sleep?" he asked.

"Yes, but I can't face that carpet again," she said. "Last night was enough."

"The spare room?"

"Okay," she said after a moment, the yawn making it clear she needed sleep. "That's a good idea. I'll sleep, you catch up with work." He kissed her once more before she went upstairs. He smiled, listening to her footsteps until she settled down, and (he presumed) was drifting off to sleep. Then he got to work. Adam was right, he was far behind what he should be.

* * *

**More soon, but I've come to the end of my "plan" so I'm not sure what to do next. Might be a few days before I update.**


	15. Chapter 15

The next few days passed in a whirlwind. Harry was manically busy at work, leaving early and coming back late, usually to find Ruth waiting for him in bed, where they kissed and cuddled before slipping into sleep. He hated leaving Ruth alone for such long periods, and he did call her to check she was okay several times a day. Ruth on the other hand had been looking at flats, and found one she liked, putting a security deposit on it. She was moving in tomorrow.

After her rushed escape from Tehran, she didn't have many possessions, but even so, her presence seemed to have seeped into his home. The book she'd been reading resting on the kitchen table. The disgusting grapefruit juice she liked to drink for breakfast in his fridge, her handwriting on a note she'd left him, saying she'd gone out for bread and milk, had he happened to come home and find her absent. In the bathroom her presence was felt most. He couldn't believe that he'd once taken up all the space and within days it had become their bathroom, rather than his alone. The room even smelt like her with her shampoo standing in the shower, her perfume in the bathroom cupboard. There were a few pots and tubes of makeup that he couldn't begin to name, even though she rarely wore much makeup. She didn't need it, because she was completely breathtaking without it. Her blue toothbrush stood so close to his own, showing that they really were a couple.

"Harry?" He'd been wandering the house absently and she'd started to look for him, pushing open the bathroom door quietly. He looked at her, wearing her dressing gown and smiled. "What are you doing?"

"Thinking," he said honestly. He pulled her into his arms, and stroked her back, making sure to touch that sensitive spot on her right side. She shivered under his touch. Her bruises had healed and now he wasn't as careful about holding her. It hadn't taken long for him to discover some of her more sensitive spots.

"I'm only moving down the road," she said, kissing the tip of his nose lightly before laughing. "And I wanted to…" she suddenly looked a little embarrassed, and her face went red.

"What?" he asked confused.

"There's no real delicate way to say this," she said. "I was hoping that when we went to bed, we wouldn't be sleeping." She bit her lip delicately, but he didn't move or say a word, unsure if she was suggesting what he thought she was. "You're never going to make the first move, Harry" she said. "And I'm really bad at dropping hints." Her hands went to the tie on her dressing gown, pulling it open slowly. Harry was sure he'd forgotten how to breathe as he looked at her black lace underwear which didn't hide much and emphasised everything. Her skin was a beautiful cream and he ached to touch her as his eyes feasted over her.

"I don't know," he murmured. "That's quite a good hint." His eyes found hers, and she smiled at him, a little shyly but the smile was there. He kissed her deeply, taking immense care not to touch her anywhere else, except the hand holding her face.

"Are you sure?" he whispered against her ear when the kiss ended.

"I've wanted to know what it would be like for six years now," she said, running her palms down his back slowly. "To make love to you. Nothing that's happened since has changed that. Can we go to the bedroom?" It was only then that Harry realised they were standing in the bathroom still, and he held her hand, heading towards his bedroom in silence. Once there, he gently pushed her dressing gown off, and started kissing her neck softly, licking her skin and feeling her pulse racing under his lips.

Her hands reached for his shirt, unbuttoning it as quickly as she could. As soon as it was loose, she pulled away from his kiss and pushed the material off. She'd seen him shirtless a couple of times, as they'd been sharing the same house for two weeks, but it had never been this tense or charged before. And she'd never felt like she could really spend time and enjoy looking at him before. She reached for him, stroking his skin gently, making his eyes close at the sensation. After a moment, he pulled her close, his fingertips feathering over her back. He reached the clasp of her bra, and undid it, before pulling back to look at her breasts.

"You're beautiful," he whispered. She smiled as his hands cupped her breasts gently, squeezing and stroking. "Get in bed." She smiled and did as he asked, moaning quietly as his body covered hers.

* * *

Ruth lay still, covered in a sheen of sweat as she tried to get her breath back. Harry had fallen asleep almost instantly next to her, and she stroked his hair gently. Her body was quivering after Harry's touch. It had been the most sensual experience of her life, Harry being so careful and thoughtful. She'd always assumed that he'd be a generous and skilled lover, but not as gentle or loving as he had been. And he had moved slowly, there was no rush at all, even after all these years of waiting and anticipation. He'd brought her to climax three times before thinking of his own pleasure.

After her second orgasm, he'd kissed her deeply and she'd been able to taste herself on his lips and his tongue, sending a surge of arousal straight through her. The feeling of being so wanted was new to her and she shivered at just the memory.

Harry rolled towards her and opened his eyes. "You okay?" he murmured, voice hoarse. Had he been shouting? She couldn't remember.

"Very okay," she said. She curled into him and kissed the hollow of his throat gently. "I enjoyed that." He chuckled, the sound reverberating through her.

"Go to sleep," he whispered. It didn't take long before she followed his advice.

* * *

**More soon. Thanks for being patient between updates as work is getting busy now.**


	16. Chapter 16

Ruth awoke with a start, feeling a familiar thrill of fear and claustrophobia. Harry was holding her tightly, too tightly for her comfort and she pulled away by instinct. She knew this wasn't to do with Harry at all, rather her recent past but she needed space, quickly. As soon as she pulled away from him, her heart started to slow down to a more normal pace and her panic began to fade. Her quick movements had woken Harry, who looked at her, worry on his face. "Ruth?"

"I'm okay," she said quietly.

"Are you…" he started slowly. "Regret…"

"No!" she interrupted quickly, turning to him and holding his hand. "God, no. Never." The worry on his face relaxed slightly, and she smiled.

"Then what is it?"

"I just woke up feeling a little… trapped and frightened," she said. "I just needed to move. It's not you, it's… the past."

"Okay," he said quietly, keeping his voice emotionless. "Do you want me to move?"

"No," she said, smiling. "It was only for a moment." She leaned over him and kissed his lips softly as her breasts pressed against his chest. He wrapped an arm around her very carefully. "Don't ever think that I regret last night. Ever. And after all, I was more than… eager."

Harry smiled at her. "Mm," he said. "Do you know how beautiful you are?"

She blushed at him. "You're the only one who thinks that," she said.

"No, I'm not," he said. "Anyone with eyes can see it. Oh, come here." He kissed her deeply, his hand tentatively finding her breast. She knew he was a little wary and she covered his hand with her own, making sure he was touching her properly.

Things were just starting to get interesting when the alarm clock and Harry's mobile went off simultaneously. They parted with a sigh, Harry picking up his phone with regret.

"I have to…"

"Go," she finished. "Don't worry, I understand. How urgent is it?"

"I can't… tell you," he said, the words halting.

"Oh," she said. "Of course you can't," she said simply, realising she didn't work for MI5 any longer. It had just occurred to her that she no longer had clearance to read or know about sensitive information. It also meant that she couldn't really talk about his job with him. Their entire relationship had been founded on a trust and friendship formed at work. The knowledge that in that environment, there was always that one person you could rely on, who wouldn't unfairly judge you. And later, it had turned into so much more. Those late nights in his office, which were now a distant memory to her. Powerful, but it happened a long time ago. Now that entire aspect of their relationship, their past was cut off to her, she felt a little wrong footed. How had that not occurred to her until now? Probably because they'd both had more important things to think about. "I know you need to go," she said interrupting her own thoughts

"Unfortunately," he agreed. He looked uncomfortable, about not confiding in her. "It's just…"

"I know," she repeated. "Go." He leaned across and kissed her. She lay back in bed, showing no intention of moving and his lips twitched as he watched her.

"You're not going to move?"

"No," she said. "Or not yet. I'd quite like to see you walking across the room naked."

Her eyes were sparkling with mischief, and he grinned before indulging her and getting dressed, with no rush at all. She could only form words once he had trousers on and started buttoning up his shirt.

"I won't be here when you get back, you know."

"I know," he said, keeping his voice neutral. "I remember you're leaving."

"Harry, its not about you," she said. "If I really didn't think we'd work long term, I wouldn't have chosen a flat down the street from you. I would have bought a property, rather than renting one if I didn't think that at some point I'd be living with you, through choice rather than necessity."

He stopped moving, his tie loose around his neck. "You think you'll come back here?" he asked softly.

"When I'm ready to, yes," she said. "I need to… find my feet a bit. And as nice as it is, I can't do that when you're here protecting me all the time."

"Okay," he said, smiling at her. He knew she needed to do this, but it was also good to know that she considered him a permanent part of her life too. "Now, I'm really late."

"Go," she said. "I'll lock up when I go." He nodded, leaned over the bed to kiss her once more and then vanished. She lay back in the bed which still smelt of him, of them. Waiting until he left, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. After all, it didn't matter when she left and she had some sleep to catch up on.

* * *

Ruth looked around her incredibly sparse flat. It was basically furnished, which had really helped her in her decision to put a deposit down on it in the first place. She had only two boxes of possessions, and it didn't take long until she was "settled in." She looked around her small kitchen and it was at that point she realised she had no dishes, no mugs and no kettle. And she wanted a cup of tea. Sighing, she knew she had to go shopping, and began making a list on her phone (as she didn't have a pen or notepads either).

She had plenty of money from the sale of her house, and she'd also had one years pay from MI5 added to her bank account too. She'd been an innocent woman for 12 months when she was in Iran after her name had been cleared. Forced into hiding due to her work in MI5, so they owed her a salary. Or that's what Harry had told her anyway. She knew from her time in section D that there were funds for this specific purpose, otherwise she'd have questioned Harry further. After three years on the run, to be honest, she felt she was entitled to a portion of the money anyway.

So she made a list, grabbed her purse and locked her flat, feeling a thrill at the freedom of being able to go through the London streets, on her own, without having to look over her shoulder. It was wonderful.

* * *

**More in the next few days. Thank you for the reviews so far. :)**


	17. Chapter 17

Ruth found herself looking through lingerie when her mobile phone rang. She'd done some of the "important" shopping which would be being delivered, but she hadn't been able to resist having a look, thinking of something that might both make her feel sexy, and tempt Harry. There were several black sets she liked the look of, silk and lace. She liked how she looked in black, and she rarely felt confident to wear brightly coloured underwear.

Interrupted from this train of thought, she answered her buzzing mobile, reading the number. She knew that number, it was the line from Harry's office. "Yes?"

"Ruth," he said, his voice caressing her name, making her feel warm inside. "Where are you?" he asked urgently before she could speak.

She bristled at that. She didn't like having to tell him where she was, it felt too much like Ahmed keeping tabs on her. "Shopping," she said shortly, and he could tell he'd said the wrong thing.

"I'm not following you," he said, correctly guessing what she'd been thinking. "It's just… we've got a confirmed terror threat, in London. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine," she said, thawing out a little at his concern for her. "I promise."

"Good," he said. "Just… promise me something?"

"What?" she asked.

He paused, and she heard him clear his throat before speaking, voice low and controlled. "Don't take the underground today. Use buses, but don't… just… don't use the tube."

She only just held back the urge to ask why, knowing he wouldn't or couldn't tell her. But she'd give him this promise. "I won't," she said. "How… bad?"

"Bad," he said quietly. "We can't… announce the threat because the entire of London will come grinding to a halt. The roads will be blocked for miles and the panic and the crush will kill people, possibly hundreds. It could even do more damage than the terror attack would if we can't stop it. Not to mention the economic consequences. We're closing a couple of stations which have been…" he tailed off, and she swallowed uncomfortably. He'd started to slip into the old habit of confiding in her, the way he always used to at work. It felt so easy and natural to talk to her about the operation that he'd done it without thinking.

Ruth ran a hand over her face, knowing what she was going to do, even as the silence became oppressive on the phone. "I'll be careful," she said. "I'm going straight home."

"Okay," he said, and she could hear the relief in his voice.

"What about you?" she said. "Are you…going to be all right?"

"I'll be… fine," he said. There was only the slightest hesitation before the word "fine" but she caught it.

"Harry," she said. "Don't…"

"Ruth, I'll be fine," he said with more certainty in his voice. "I'm worried about you."

"Just be careful," she said. She heard a mumble on the phone line and knew someone was distracting Harry's attention.

"I have to go. I love you." The phone line disconnected immediately and Ruth stood in shock. He'd just told her he loved her for the first time. Over the bloody phone! She felt fear coiling up inside her as she realised he'd only said that, because he might not have the opportunity to say it to her face. And even after everything she'd been through over the past few years, nothing frightened her more than the prospect of losing him.

* * *

Needless to say, Ruth had an incredibly stressful day. She went home, put a 24 hour news channel on the TV, almost waiting for a bomb in London, and gripped her phone, waiting for Harry to call her. If he'd been sitting in his office all day while she'd been sat here worrying about him, she'd kill him. But she knew it wasn't that simple. He'd have called her again if he could, to stop her from worrying, which he knew she must be. On the positive, nothing had made the news, even reading between the lines as she'd had plenty of practise doing.

Finally at eleven she decided to go to bed. She'd call the grid in the morning if she still hadn't heard from him. She'd just got into bed, phone clutched tightly in her hand when it rang. "Yes?"

"I'm fine, don't worry," Harry's familiar voice said. His words were slightly slurred and she could tell he was tired.

"Good, now tell me what the hell's been going on," she said sharply.

"I will, but not on the phone," he said. "I'm on my way over."

"Good," she said. "I've been worried.

"I know," he said. "But catastrophe averted for another day. I'm being driven over now."

"Okay," she said. "Just… take care."

"I will. See you in a minute."

"Bye." She put the phone down and went to unlock the door. A few minutes later, there was a light knock, and she opened it to find Harry who looked as if he was barely standing on his feet, and he had a black eye, swollen so much that he couldn't see out of it.

"God, what happened to you?!" she said.

"You look wonderful," he murmured, closing the door behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

"You're avoiding the question," she said.

"No," he replied. "Just wanting to hold you first. I've had a… hard day."

She stayed silent, resting her head against his chest as his arms tightened around her, just letting him hold her. He kissed the top of her head, and then let her go. "I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?"

"For what I said on the phone," he said, looking into her eyes. She got the point immediately

"You didn't mean it?"

"Of course I did," he said. "But I'm sorry that the first time I said it, it was over the phone. I thought… there was a good chance I might not have made it back today… I wanted you to know that."

"You could always make up for it," she said quietly. He smiled and kissed her softly. He had a cut on his lip, she could taste the sharp tang of blood against her tongue.

"I love you," he said slowly and fully, his voice almost caressing the words. He moved to kiss her jaw before sucking her earlobe delicately. She shivered at his closeness, and he whispered into her ear again, "I love you."

She rested her head against his chest, feeling the reassuringly regular beat of his heart through her skin. "I love you too," she said. "I have for a very long time." She felt him relax at her words and she smiled into his shirt. He was relieved she felt the same way, she could tell.

"Come to bed," she said. "And tell me what you've gone through today."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea."

* * *

_**More soon. I'm sort of letting this story go where it wants to from this point.**_


	18. Chapter 18

**This chapter is most definitely M rated, and I'm upping the story rating. Enjoy!**

* * *

In her bedroom, Harry fumbled with his shirt buttons, his usually sure touch failing through exhaustion. "Let me," Ruth said. She efficiently unbuttoned it, then pulled it off of him. She gasped at the bruising and blood on the left side of his ribcage which was revealed. "Oh, Harry," she whispered.

"I'm okay," he said, words slurring a little. "I've had broken ribs before, it's not that. And I've been checked out, it's just bruised and… sore."

"Get in bed," she said firmly. He didn't even have the energy to argue with her, almost falling onto the mattress. Ruth took his shoes and socks off, before unbuckling his belt. Her lips twitched as she took his trousers off, but now wasn't the time to let her hands stray, no matter the temptation. She threw the duvet over him before getting in bed next to him.

"What happened today?"

"Some American terrorists," Harry said, rolling onto his good side and facing her. "Or psychopaths would probably be a better description."

"What did they want?"

"To gas the entire underground network in London," Harry said. "Or that was the threat anyway. It would have most likely only been one of the lines, but they weren't telling us which, where or how. Anyway…"

"Why did they warn you?" she asked quietly. "What did they want?"

"Money, and new identities so they can get away from the US government permanently, who understandably wants them in prison," Harry said. "Well, we couldn't give them the new identities without pissing off the Americans and damaging our relationship. The money…"

"How much?" Ruth asked out of curiosity more than anything else.

"Two hundred million," Harry said, closing his eyes. "Pounds, not dollars. To protect our underground network though, that was nothing. Plus I had an… argument with my CIA counterpart." He smiled at that, making Ruth smile in reflex. She knew how much he enjoyed a fight with America. "After a while, they agreed to pay, as the terrorist were American citizens, which they wanted kept quiet. But it was letting them walk free which was the problem."

"So…"

"The agreement was that I'd personally hand over the new identities and the false passports for the group, instead of Adam or anyone else. The Americans wanted me to do it. I think they trust me, make of that what you will."

"And?" Ruth asked urgently. She needed to know, and judging from Harry's reaction, he needed to tell her. It was almost spilling from him now, speaking with his eyes closed.

"Malcolm's got a new techie he's training. Tariq. He came up with the idea to plant trackers in the passports which Malcolm did expertly."

"How did you do the pictures on the identities? How did you know who was behind it?"

"The terrorists told us," Harry said. "They weren't shy."

"Keep going," she said.

"I met them. I didn't have any back up, but I had two trackers, and the grid was following me on CCTV. My ribs got beaten when they found the trackers on me. They were pissed off with them, threw a bag over my head, tied my hands together before we quickly relocated. I was doubled over through to the pain. I could barely breathe."

"Oh, Harry…." He opened his eyes, smiling at her.

"I've had much worse," he said. "So have you," he added softly.

"It doesn't mean that I like seeing you hurt," she said.

"It was simple after that," he said. "Just tracked them down using Malcolm's tinkered passports."

"Try and sleep," she said after it was clear he had no more to tell her. "Actually, do you want food? I have nothing but bread, but I can make you toast."

"No, I'm not hungry," he said as she moved to get up. "I've had some painkillers. Oh…" As she settled back in bed her hand had touched his penis accidentally. "Mm, that's good."

"Sorry," she said, amusement in her voice.

"Don't ever apologise for touching me there," he said lazily. She smiled and returned her hand to him, making him moan as she squeezed gently.

"We can't do anything tonight," she said. "You're too injured and tired."

"Oh, I know," he said. "But I do enjoy your touch. Immensely."

She laughed, rolled over and kissed him. "Goodnight, Harry."

"Mm," he murmured, glad that tomorrow was Saturday and that there was nowhere he had to be.

* * *

Harry woke up and groaned. His side was bloody painful, he needed painkillers. He opened his eyes and saw a heavenly sight. Ruth wearing his discarded shirt loosely buttoned and not much else, carrying two plastic cups of tea. "Morning," she said with a smile.

"Why," he said. "Why is it that you can look… so good in my rumpled shirt?" She smiled at him broadly.

"Maybe because you like my legs?" With the invitation he looked at her creamy thighs, and had to admit she had a point. He did like her legs. She handed him the flimsy plastic and he looked at her in question. "I've got some mugs being delivered later today," she said. "Along with all my other rubbish. For the moment, if you want tea, it's in plastic." He took a sip, then placed it on the bedside table before turning to her. He saw her rubbing her thighs, her face not entirely happy.

"What?"

"I've started putting weight on," she said quietly.

"I know," he said with such warmth and desire in his voice that she couldn't even pretend to be offended. "It's because you're eating properly now. I could tell you weren't… before… You were too thin."

"No, I wasn't eating much," she agreed. "You're right."

"I like that your bones aren't quite as close to the surface as they were. It makes me less worried that I might… hurt you."

"Do you worry about hurting me?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "Of course I do."

She couldn't really say much, because she knew that it was at least partly her past that was making him worry. "I don't… I'm not afraid of you."

"Well, that's good," he said lowly. "Do me a favour, my painkillers are in my jacket. Would you mind…?"

She jumped out of bed so quickly that the shirt flew up and he knew she wasn't wearing anything underneath it. He felt a jolt straight to his groin, and knew this was going to be a Saturday morning spent pleasurably in bed. She came back in moments with his tablets, and saw him eyeing her up. Their relationship hadn't been physical for very long, but she knew what that look meant. Good, she thought. She'd woken up wanting him, so she was glad his thoughts had gone in that direction.

He took his painkillers as she got back in bed, smiling at him. "We have nowhere to be this morning, do we?" he asked, trying to wonder whether she'd welcome his attentions.

"If you want sex, you can ask," she said bluntly, her lips twitching. "You don't have to be subtle about it. If I'm not in the mood, I'll tell you."

"Okay…" he said.

"I want sex," she added clearly. He raised his eyebrows and wrapped his arms around her waist tightly, and started to kiss her neck passionately, now that he had her permission.

"Wait," she said, needing to talk. He stopped kissing her, but kept his hands on her body. "Harry, you don't have to ask every time you touch me," she said. "I like it that you touch me. I actually _need_ for you to want me. I want you." He smiled at her, loving the honesty in her beautiful eyes. "You're not him. I'm not afraid of you."

"I'm just… very aware that…"

"I know," she said. "And I do appreciate it. But if you're always asking or waiting for me to move first, I'm going to miss out on being woken by your wandering hands, or your kisses, or anything else your vivid and capable imagination can come up with." He smiled at her.

"I will," he said. "I promise."

"Good," she said.

"Now that we're speaking honestly," he said. "There's something I've always wanted to know."

"Oh?"

"Mm," he said, eyes twinkling at her. "What's your favourite position?"

She froze for a moment as the question permeated her brain, then smiled. "That sounds like privileged information."

"Mm," Harry said. "I've always wanted to know. Always wondered what would make you completely melt."

"It depends what mood I'm in," she said honestly.

"Okay," he said. "How about right now? At this very moment."

"Don't move for a bit." He trusted her and then groaned. She'd straddled his chest, facing his feet and leaving him with the incredibly diverting view of her bum as she bent over him. She pulled his briefs down his thighs, and took him in her mouth at the same instant as Harry pushed her shirt up and started stroking her buttocks. He was soft in her mouth, but that didn't last long as she licked and tasted him.  
His fingers moved to her arousal, stroking and she moaned, even with her mouth full. Then he started teasing her clitoris, very slowly rubbing in a maddening way. She rolled off of him, breathing heavily.

"Ruth?" he asked confused.

"Sit up," she said, smiling. He did, trusting her as he leaned against the headboard.

"I thought… weren't you liking that?"

"Oh, that isn't how I like it," she said with a grin. "That was just to get you hard, and to taste you. I haven't had the pleasure yet."

"Mm," he said. "Oh…" She wrapped her hand around his erection, straddled him and pushed herself onto his length, very, very slowly. He closed his eyes as he felt her warmth enveloping him, inch by heavenly inch. When she settled on him, she tangled her fingers in his hair and kissed him.

"Open your eyes, Harry." He did, and her face was only a couple of inches from his own, so close and her eyes were so open and honest. It felt so intimate, her thighs either side of his hips, his length inside her heat, her arms around him and her eyes on his with such love… it felt as if he'd never been in a more intimate position with anyone before.

"Please take that shirt off," he breathed. She smiled, started to unbutton it, fumbling as he started to stroke her clitoris. She rocked her hips against his, thoroughly enjoying the stimulation as the shirt fell from her skin. As soon as her breasts were free, he started to play with them, stroking, licking and kissing her sensitive skin. She moaned loudly. He knew what to do with a woman's breasts, and she could feel herself building towards a climax already. She thrust against him, moaning with want.

"Look at me Ruth," he said. She did as he touched her clitoris again, tipping her over the edge. She looked deep into his eyes as she came, the passion leaving her shaking. "You're exquisite," he breathed. He could feel himself throbbing for release, and he held her hips, trying to still her so he could hold on.

"Let go," she whispered, seeing his problem.

"I want you to come twice," he said heavily. "Just don't move for a minute." She didn't, except for catching her breath. She moaned when she felt Harry move inside her, deeper. Taking this as a signal to move, she started riding him again, this time faster. His hands grazed her side, moving from her waist to her breasts and back again, his touch soft but sure.

"Harry, I'm… close…" she said after what felt like minutes. He sucked her bottom lip gently for a moment as he thrust inside her hard. He could feel her sharp breath against his face as she gasped, over and over again.

"Harry!" she cried out loudly as her muscles contracted around him with a deep, bone shaking pleasure. She was still quivering around him, moaning quietly when he came, letting go of his self control.

They stilled, no sound in the room at all except their heavy breathing as they attempted to recover. He could feel her nipples against his chest, hard points which he couldn't resist stroking for a moment.

"How are your ribs?" she asked quietly.

"What ribs?" A ghost of a smile appeared on her face as she reached for him, her fingertips tracing his eyebrows gently. She shifted her hips slightly and they parted, but otherwise didn't move as he stroked her thighs.

"That was…" he said in a murmur. "Um… very… good." His voice was slurred slightly, and she felt pleased that she'd got him this worked up.

"Yes," she said. "I like it like that. It feels…"

"Intimate," he finished. "Mm…"

"So," she said. "Next time, what's your favourite position?" His hands had slipped to her bum, squeezing, but he froze at her words.

"It doesn't matter," he said.

"I told you mine," she continued.

"But… it's not making love... its fucking."

She stroked his stubbled cheek and whispered in his ear… "Tell me."

"I like it… with you on your hands and knees, while I take you from behind. I thoroughly enjoy how intense it feels."

"Okay," she said after a moment. "We'll try that next time."

"Mm?"

"Hmm," she agreed.

There was a knock on the door, breaking the moment and she sighed. "I have to answer that," she said. "It'll be my shopping deliveries." Though she didn't show any signs of wanting to move.

"Get up then," he said with a smirk.

"I like how you feel between my thighs," she admitted, though she did move with reluctance. She quickly pulled some clothes on and dashed to answer the door, which was a delivery as she'd predicted.

* * *

**Not the greatest end to a chapter ever, but this chapter is big enough as it is and needs to end at some point!**


	19. Chapter 19

**This is probably the last chapter, though I might write an epilogue. Thanks for all the support for this story, it's been a particularly enjoyable one to write.**

* * *

**3 months later.**

Harry looked at the window to her flat, incredibly surprised that the lights were off. That never happened. Whoever's place they were sleeping at, Ruth always left a light on for him for when he got home. Even if she'd fallen asleep, the light was always on. He took his phone out of his jacket pocket, poised to send an alarm to the grid if something… untoward happened to her. He was on full alert as he went upstairs and unlocked the door.

Everything was quiet. He considered what to do, phone still in hand before turning on the light. He saw Ruth hunched on a kitchen chair as still as a statue. He didn't go to her at once, looking for intruders. "Are you hurt?" he asked. "Is anyone here? Should I send for back up?"

"I'm… f… fine," she said. "I mean, there's no one else here." He dropped his phone on the table and looked at her. She spoke into her knees, and he couldn't see her face.

"What's wrong?" he asked calmly. "You can talk to me."

"Harry…" she whispered. After a moment she raised her head and he could see that she'd been crying.

"What is it?" he asked. His mind was begging him to go to her and hold her, but with her in this state he wasn't sure that was the best thing for him to do. Instead he sat down on a kitchen chair, close to her, but not too close.

"I've got something to tell you," she said, brushing her hair out of her face. Her knees were still drawn up, her arm tight around them.

"Are you leaving me?" he asked, his mind going to the worst thing he could imagine at this moment in time.

"No," she said. "I love you." He felt the knot of fear loosening in his gut. It couldn't be that bad then.

"Please, please be calm when I tell you this," she said, eyes wide and fearful. "I don't want… just think before you do anything."

"Okay," he said, willing to promise her anything to get her to talk to him.

"I'm pregnant."

"Oh," he said, smiling gently at her. "Well, to be honest… I already knew that."

Her eyes went even wider. "But…"

"Ruth, you haven't had a period in nine weeks. I noticed," he said simply. He moved to hold her, to hug her with this wonderful news that she'd finally decided to share with him.

"No, don't touch me!" she said quickly. "I can't have that right now."

And as if someone had flipped a light switch, it all came into place in his mind. The last time she'd told a man she was pregnant, he'd beaten her so badly she'd miscarried and ended up in hospital. Of course she'd be frightened of telling him.

"Ruth," he said quietly. "I'm thrilled. I'm not going to hurt you. I won't even touch you if you don't want me to." She nodded, still looking at him. "This is fantastic news, honestly." The grin that broke out on his face was clear, and she relaxed a very little bit. "I don't want you to worry. The stress won't be good for the… baby."

The smile widened as he said that word. Their baby. He had suspected she was pregnant, and they'd never used any protection, but it was good to have it confirmed.

He reached for her hand, still around her legs and touched the tips of her fingers softly. She felt cold and stiff. "You need to get to bed," he said. "You're freezing. Come and get warm." She took a moment, but then nodded and followed him through to the bedroom.

"I know it's not the same," she said as he wrapped the sheets around her. "I know you're not him, but I've been frightened of telling you."

"I think that's understandable," he said. "Do you want me to sleep with you tonight, or would you prefer it if I left?"

"No, stay here," she said simply. "No sex though," she added bluntly. "Not tonight." It hadn't even occurred to him, as he quickly undressed and lay next to her.

"Are you really happy?" she asked as he wrapped a careful arm around her.

"Yes," he said. Very slowly he slipped his hand to her stomach. She froze stiff, and it took several minutes of gentle stroking for her to relax.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It was only fear. I didn't really believe you'd hurt me. Just…"

"I know," he soothed. If she'd really believed that he would hurt her, she wouldn't be drifting off to sleep in his arms right now. "I know. Sleep."

* * *

Harry awoke to an empty bed and the smell of frying bacon. Getting up, he put his clothes on and walked into the kitchen. Ruth wore one of his old shirts, her hair a tangled mess as she made their bacon sandwiches. He wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled into her neck. "Morning," he whispered.

"Hi," she said, and he could tell she was smiling at him. "I'm sorry," she added.

"Mm?" he murmured, his mouth doing delightful things to her skin. She turned in his arms and kissed him soundly.

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "I'm sorry I left it so long to tell you, and I'm sorry about how I reacted. You were late, and I'd worked myself up into a state."

"I know," he said. "I could tell."

"I do trust you," she said. "More than anyone else."

"That's good," he said. His hands splayed over her stomach lightly. "Are you happy? I never asked last night."

"I am happy," she said. "Scared, but happy."

"Scared?"

"Scared that I'll lose him," she said. "Scared that I'll be a bad mother."

He smiled at her. "You'll be a wonderful, beautiful mother," he said. "I know you will be."

"You have such faith in me," she said quietly.

"It's well placed," he assured her, before taking his bacon sandwich and taking a large bite. "I love you, Ruth."

"I love you too," she said, glancing at him, her face radiant. He couldn't believe that any woman looked at him like that, let alone one he felt so desperately in love with.


End file.
